Archangel
by Namine3419
Summary: An angel.  So bright, to look upon her hurt his eyes, yet to look away was to deny him of beauty.  Sequel to "Secrets"
1. Prologue:  Goodbye

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Prologue: Goodbye**

**Ah, hello! And welcome to the beginning of another story! This is a sequel to my Fable 2 story "Secrets", which I don't think you'll necessarily have to read to understand this one, but you can if you want to, lol. Um, anyway, thank you for choosing to read my new story, and I'll have the first chapter up soon, so please leave me a review of what you think or any tips you can give me towards my writing n_n**

**Oh, and as in the other story, I'll give a heads up if there are any naughty bits, lol.**

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He supposed it was only proper, given the circumstances, that it should rain on this particular day. However, he found it quite annoying indeed to find himself among so many so-called "well wishers", here to pay their last respects to a ruler who had given her heart and soul to that of her people. Reaver stood atop the stone walkway, looking out into the garden that not only housed the former king, but now his queen. He did not fool himself into thinking this was unexpected; quite the contrary, he should be used to watching those he knew pass into oblivion far before him.

It did nothing to sooth the sting.

The chalice he held in gloved hands seemed to stay at a constant temperature; he knew not if it were thanks to the rain or if it were one of Sparrow's many parlor tricks she had shown him. A smile came to his lips; she did so love to entice others with magic. From atop his perch he could see the massive form of a now very old Hammer, her once crimson locks now a glistening white against the black mourning robes she wore. A shame that the two final Heroes would be that bulky joke of a woman...and himself. At least Garth had been lucky enough to die in his sleep. Reaver took a long drink from his glass, trying not to think of seeing her fragile, wane face as she lay dying in bed.

The crowd below him had trickled down to nothing by the time he emerged from his outpost, the revelries inside appearing to just begin. Apparently the old queen had demanded a party be had once she was good and buried; the door locked tight to prevent a very hollow Sparrow from joining them. He passed a few that gave him a respectful nod or two; Reaver ignored them, keeping his pace towards the tomb. It hadn't taken him long to trade in his sea legs to put a foot into the art of industry, nor did it surprise him the find he had quite the knack for it. In all honesty it was little different to that of his black market endeavors, the only difference being he paid the industry workers less.

A crypt was supposed to be something that held an unwanted, forbidden air to it. Apparently the beloved queen never got that memo, for where she now rest was a palace of sheer splendor. Carved in white granite, it seemed almost to glow in the night air, almost like a beacon in the darkness. Columns surrounded larger-than-life statues of the past king and now the queen, on holding a sword and the other a lantern, a blue flame emanating from the latter. He watched, transfixed on the ghostly shadows that danced along the stone's face, almost making it seem as if she were still there, standing above him in the garden. He laughed grimly, "If only it were that wonderful statue from Brightwood." Reaver stopped at a small hiccuping sound, followed closely by the whining of what he guessed was a dog. Ah, so he wasn't to be alone after all. His heels clicked on the cobblestone path, and her heard a small intake of breath. Rounding the corner he found himself staring down at a rather small girl, her hair darkened by the downpour. Her arms were wrapped around a young black and white collie, and he remembered who she was. Leaning on his cane, Reaver asked, "Dear Princess, I believe you were supposed to follow your brother into the main hall."

Puffy eyes stared at him defiantly, "I'm not going! None of them really cared about mother, well," she frowned, sniffling, "maybe miss Hammer did, and Walter, and Jasper, and...and...!" She buried her tiny head into the black and white fur, and even in the dark Reaver could see her shaking.

"I see," In a graceful motion Reaver removed his own jacket and draped it around the young girl's shoulders, "and do you think it right to leave them alone in their grief?"

Her head popped up, looking smaller thanks to the grand black fur lining of his jacket, "I didn't...! I just," tears began to fall down her cheeks, "I wanted...I wanted to say goodbye. By myself..." Her little eyebrows furrowed, and she glared at him, "I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone see me cry, and you broke my promise!" She stood, yet the hight was still not enough to keep the hem of his jacket from trailing the ground, "And where were you? I didn't see you the enter time they were putting mother in the ground! Why didn't you say goodbye?"

He simply smiled, "Why, dear little Princess, you and I are not so different. I view these matters as an extremely personal affair, to which _you_ have intruded upon."

It took her child's mind a while to catch up to what he had accused her of, however when she figured it out her face only grew angrier, "But this is _my_ garden! And she was _my_ mother!"

He clicked his cane down on the stone, making the child blink, "Indeed she was. And she was _my_ only friend." Leaning down, though he still could not achieve her eye level, Reaver asked, "So let us mourn her together; your mother did so hate for people to be alone in grief."

The girl's face crumpled, and she started to cry in earnest. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist, and Reaver lifted her from the ground. Her brow was rather warm; the thing had probably caught a fever being out in the rain for so long. The dog below him began to wag its tail, and he could not help the smile that came to his lips. How many times had he carried her mother just like this? He felt the tiny head turn in the nook of his neck, her weak little voice crying, "I promised her I wouldn't cry..."

He turned to head towards the castle, music flowing from within, "I promise to not tell anyone."

"Tha-thank you..." Her hair was wet, and he reached up a hand to remove the strands that had stuck to his cheek.

It didn't take him long to cross the courtyard, not to spot a rather tall soldier whom he had come to know as Walter. The aging man gave him a suspicious glare, which grew even more suspicious as he spotted that which he carried. Reaver smirked as he noticed the other man's poorly hidden urge to sprint as he walked up to him, "Reaver."

"Ah, Sir Walter! Though I wish they were under different circumstances, it does my heart good to see you well."

"You don't have a heart, you bloody tart." He held out his hands, and Reaver let him take the sleeping Princess. His eyebrows shot up as he felt he forehead, "Why the bloody hell did you keep her out here so long?"

Reaver dramatically placed his palm over his chest, "You accuse me of keeping the little dear out in the rain?" The hand was soon replaced to his hip, the other using the cane for support, "I wonder how surprised you'd be to find that I had found her hiding behind her mother's tomb?"

"Is that where she..." The man's face softened, brown eyes growing misty, "I'm sorry, Reaver. I know if Her Majesty were here, she-"

Reaver walked past him, waving a hand, "Would more than likely join in your berating of my character and smack me for touching her precious girl. Yes," he stopped and sighed, "that's exactly what dear Sparrow would have done."

The big man joined him, "I suppose you're not staying for the party?"

"No," he answered, voice cooler than he thought, "I believe this is one party that I shall glady pass up." Instead of walking through the main hall he took a detour throught the servants courters, turning only to flash the man a smile he knew would cause him to fidigit uncomfortably from, "Tatty-bye then!"


	2. Unmentionable

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter One: Unmentionable**

**Oh ho, what's this? The first chapter up so quickly? I am indeed going insane, or either just getting super pumped thanks to Eiffel 65's "Move Your Body", lol. ANYWAY! I forgot to say in the prologue that this story will contain spoilers if you haven't beaten the game yet, but I'll warn you before those happen, never fear! Lol. I guess I should also mention that I don't own Fable, blah blah blah...and another blah for good measure.**

**I'm really excited about this story; Fable 3 turned out to be one of my favorite games, and I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Hopefully you all have a lot of fun reading it, lol n_n**

Please read and review, but most of all ENJOY!~

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"Okay, can you run that by me one more time?" Lilith crossed her arms, jumping slightly as the cool metal of her gauntlet traced her exposed abdomen.

The woman she had come to know as Benjimina stopped bouncing on her toes, her face changing from hopeful to a nervous smile, "I know, I know! It sounds crazy, but you have no _idea_ of what it would mean for me! I'd even throw in a few gold coins, you know, to make it worth your time!"

Pinching her nose between thumb and forefinger, Lilith asked, "Are they really that important to you?"

"Ugh! More than the air I breath! Oh please," she wrapped her hands together, begging, "please do this for me! I would get them myself, but well, I already told you about the whole 'not being able to come within a hundred yards' thing..."

She groaned, her shoulders slumping, "So, what you want me to do is break into his house, find some room that might not even exist-"

"But it does exist!"

"_Might not even exist_," she snapped, "and steal a pair of unwashed...underwear?"

Benjimina started to bounce on her toes again, "Yes, exactly!"

Lilith began to pace, putting a gloved hand around her chin, "I suppose if I don't get them for you, you'll end up trying it yourself."

She giggled, "Without question."

"Argh! Alright! I'll get your bleeding breeches for you, but!" She raised a finger, her face going as serious as she could manage, "If I die doing this, you tell everyone I tried to, I dunno, take a Dragonstomper or something, got it?"

"So you'll do it?" Her eyes lit up, "Really? You'll really do it?"

"Yes-!" She was interrupted by the sudden embrace of the woman, who then picked her up and spun her around. Once back on the ground, Lilith laughed, "Okay, alright! I'm going to need my ribs if I'm going to do this."

Benjimina waved her hand, "It really should be no trouble at all, what with him moving out of the place and all."

Lilith whistled, Fandral waking from his short nap to rejoin her at her side. The black and white collie barked happily, anxious to get going. She turned back and waved at Benjimina, "I'll be back soon...hopefully."

The woman held up two crossed fingers, "Here's to hoping!"

The busy noise of Bowerstone Market soon faded out to a more calming, natural quiet as she entered the path to Millfields. The wind rustled the leaves above her head, sounding as if the world were whispering secrets to her. Birds sang as they flew form branch to branch, a cricket adding its voice here and there. Fields of previously harvested grain rested behind stone walls, a poor deterrent of any creature wanting an easy snack. She could see the skeletal remains of mining equipment digging deep into the hills that now surrounded her, and she wondered if it were because of the monorail or if Reaver had indeed planned on excavating the area. She decided it wasn't important, at least for now, as she locked eyes with a rather tall mercenary who blocked her path.

Fandral began to growl, and Lilith tilted her head, crossing her arms, "Well, good evening gentlemen!"

A wicked smile spread across her face as she was instantly surrounded by mercenaries, noting the scared expressions on some of the less seasoned men. A man with a rather large had walked forward, pointing his cultass at her, "We know who you are, witch. So be a good lass and give us your gold, and we'll be gone."

She frowned, "If you know who I am, then obviously you know what I can do."

A man with a gruesome scar stepped up, laughing, "You think we're scared of some little girl? Just 'cause you can cast magic don't mean you can't die!"

"Oh, I'm quite aware of my mortality," she put both hands to her side, feeling the conflicting sensations of hot and cold in her palms, "but I'm confident you won't be able to do anything about it."

The scarred man yelled, racing towards her. Lilith sent a single fireball his way, watching as the man's clothes lit on fire. The others stepped back a little, frightened. Then the hulking man that blocked her path grinned, "You ain't the only one with parlor tricks, sweet heart!" She rolled just in time to miss a searing ball of heat that passed by her ear, almost setting light brown hair alight. In answer she summed a hail of ice over his head, distracting him long enough for her to grab her sword.

A mercenary either brave or foolish enough had tried to cut her down as she stood; she countered him by jabbing her blade through his stomach and ripping it out of his mouth. A rain of crimson fell upon her face, and she wasn't surprised to see a few of the men running in fear. However, those that stayed behind drew pistols, aiming for her head. She rolled as a bullet bit into the rock beneath her, shooting a combination of ice and fire towards their general direction. The group scattered, some on fire, back into the woods. She stood, dusting the dirt from her jeans, when she felt something very hard hit the lining of her spine. She fell with an "omph!", turning her head just in time to save her nose. Before she could stand she felt a boot drive into her back, pushing her back down to the dirt, "Well now, seems you're not so tough with your face in the dirt."

There was a loud bark in front of her, followed quickly by the breath being knocked out of her assailant. Fandral stood over her, growling, while the large man went sprawling. Lilith sprang to her feet, picked up Casanova, and drove it's tip between the man's eyes, struggling to keep hold of it as the last of the man's life jolted out of him. She stepped back, wrenching her sword from the dead man's skull, and sighed, "Well, that went well, don't you think?" Fandral barked, wagging his tail. Replacing the blade in its holster, Lilith continued walking down a much bloodier path.

It was well into the evening by the time she reached the big black gates with twin R's on the front. Lilith bit her lower lip, scanning the area. It certainly looked deserted, but then it never seemed to have an over-abundance of life. She was surprised to find the guard that normally stood, well, guard here seemed to have disappeared. She looked down at Fandral, who was paying quite a bit of attention to a rabbit that was just beyond the gate, behind some bushes. Lilith sighed, "You know it's going to run away as soon as I open the door?" The dog's ears went back, and she shook her head. Looking to both sides, she placed a hand at the center of the gate, pushing gingerly.

Just as she thought the cringing of the gates caused the little thing to scurry right past her foot, and with it her dog. She turned, shouting after him, "Don't go to far!" She knew her words would go unheeded, but she could always hope. Her eyes wondered to the tiny pond that rested to her left, and when she turned around she saw the gigantic statue of a man she once adored. A frown came unbidden to her face, and she sighed, "Seems a lot of men I used to idolize have changed..." The cold, emotionless eyes of her brother penetrated her heart, and she had to swallow down a coming sob; this was not the time. Redetermined, Lilith clenched her fists and began walking down the path leading to the stairway, noting that the curtains were still covering the windows.

She wasn't at all surprised to find the door unlocked, in fact, someone had left the thing ajar. So much for thinking he might still be here, she thought, wondering why she felt slightly disappointed. She quickly stepped into the seemingly abandoned mansion, the door closing quickly behind her. There were still streamers and confetti where ever you looked, broken glass bottles and stains of things she'd rather not know decorating the walls and carpets, where ever one might lay. She was surprised (but not entirely) to find that most if not all the portraits of the business tycoon were untouched. Lilith imagined had it been otherwise whoever dared sully the man's image would have been promptly shot. By the looks of some of the images, it wasn't hard for her to believe all those tales about Reaver being immortal. She also noted that the man hadn't aged since she was a mere girl of five years, so perhaps there was some truth to that rumor. A muffled bark from outside woke her from her musings, and Lilith began her search, deciding that she would start with the upper level.

Nothing had moved since her last visit here, then again, during her last visit she was to busy fighting for her life in some sadistic trap that Page had all but to eagerly sprung. It still made her blood boil that Page had believed that Hatch fellow and just walked right into it, not even listening to her warning. She supposed it was because her friends were in danger; love is blind, isn't that the saying? Lilith walked around the giant table, finding that the door on its left was locked tight, yet the one on the left was left open. Something didn't feel quite right, but now curiousity was getting the better of her, and she went down the dim hallway lined with books much older than she was.

It was his bedroom that she found herself standing in. A grand bed, embellished in reds and golds, sat against the wall in the middle of the room, red drapes drawn back to reveal the egomaniac's beloved twin R's swen into to comforter. She rolled her eyes; did everything have to have his image or name on it? A grand fireplace lay its exact opposite, the hearth now a cold thing with no logs or fire, just empty and cold ash, a plush red chair all alone to its right. A bookcase was across the chair, a dresser right beside it; she was surprised to find the room so...plain. She slapped her hands together, the gauntlets making that familiar _tink_ sound as the metal kissed, "Alright, lets find us a hidden love chamber!"

She knew she was speaking to no one, but saying it aloud brought some peace to her nervous heart. Why was she so nervous? Because she was stealing from a man who was known to shoot people for merely sneezing in his presence. First she went to the dresser that lay so close to the fireplace. She searched the paneling with her fingers, yet felt nothing that would be a hidden switch or button, so moved on. The fireplace, though grand, was otherwise ordinary in the secret doorway department, so she scanned over it, beginning her inspection of the rug that lay before her feet. There was no hatch, no strange symbol to give her a clue. No nothing.

Replacing the rug, Lilith stood and put her hand to her hip, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face. This was beginning to look like another wild goose chase, that was until she heard a small whistling sound coming from the bookshelf. She stopped her own breathing, hoping to confirm it was indeed the bookshelf and not the chimney. It was quite for what seemed like ages until the small whistle sounded again, this time she was certain it came from the bookshelf. Stepping closer, Lilith examined the shelves as if she could see through it, her face so close she could feel the slight breeze that escaped from a barely visible crack. She looked over the books, stopping as she came to one titled "The Secrets of Love", and pulled it down. A loud clinking sounded beyond the walls, and soon the bookshelf split in two, disappearing behind the red wooden paneling, a surprised shriek escaping her lips as a small rabbit and a chicken ran out of the hall. Smiling triumphantly, Lilith stepped into an even dimmer hallway than the one leading to his master bedroom, stopping only to tilt her head at a portrait that portrayed Reaver as an old gentlewoman with a pipe sticking out of his mouth.

As she rounded the corner her mouth went agape as she stared into the room. Chains adorned the wall, shackles of all sizes near their bottoms. She noted the other forms of restraints in the room, like the two heavy wooded stocks on either side, followed by a grand metal cage that seemed big enough to hold up to three people inside. She frowned as she saw the only thing in there was a small chicken. Instead of asking questions, Lilith walked over to the swinging prison, finding the door and opening it, letting the little creature out. She watched it scurry out, just as its companions did. Lilith didn't want to know the reason why those animals were there in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, she renewed her search, going first to the small dresser next to the bed that lay in the middle of the room. She blushed deeply as all she found within were condoms, and shut the doors quickly. She wanted to run a hand down her face, but felt after touching anything in this room she might catch a disease. Instead she walked around the large headboard of the bed, noting how warn the screws to the poor thing were. Now on the other side of the room she began her search through the other dresser, stopping only at a small sound she heard behind her. Looking back, she held in another breath, though this time nothing could be heard. She shrugged, blamed it on the now freed animals, and continued her search, not surprised to find yet another dresser full of, well, things. It was only after removing a hefty layer of said items that she saw a rather wrinkled gathering of cloth near the bottom of the drawer. She smiled, reaching for the article of clothing, her hand barely reaching the hem when something hard smacked into the back of her hand.

She turned, tried to bring up her other hand to blast the intruder way, when she was knocked to the left by the same hard object that had smacked her hand, her body bouncing on the bed. Lilith tried to sit up, but only came face to face with the handle of an onyx cane. In the gloom she could make out the faint shine of golden rimmed goggles, and she gulped, blood draining from her face. The image that loomed before her seemed to purr, "Should you be doing that?"

Thinking quickly, Lilith brought her feet to her chest, launching herself from the bed. She had hoped to knock the man down and use him as another spring board, but he was far to fast for her, instead his body gracefully danced to the opening of the chamber, a shoulder leaning against the left wall. The light that shown behind him cast him in full shadow to her, his features completely blacked out; though she knew him well enough to know he was giving her an infuriatingly taunting smirk. Lilith drew her sword, the blue light casting an unnatural glow to the room, "Move aside, Reaver."

"Now, now, is that how you greet an old friend? I dare say your mother would be quite displeased with you."

So he recognized her; another set back. She cursed under her breath, body going ridged, "Reaver, please, I'd hate to have to hurt you to escape but I will!"

He laughed, white teeth shining in the darkness, "Trust me, my dear, if you truly intended physical harm upon my person, you would already be nothing but a pretty mess upon my floor. Now," before she could even blink his pistol was drawn, the gun going off in a cloud of smoke.

Lilith yelped as something hit the handle of her Casanova, the sword flying from her hand. She cursed, her hand hurting terribly but relieved to find no holes in it. By the time her eyes returned to her attacker the man had vanished, leaving the way open. However, getting to it would be rather dificult, as she found Reaver standing to her left, his arm wrapping casually around her waist. She tried to punch him, but her hand was caught mid air, and all she received was another of his taunting laughs, "Why, my little Lilith, is this any way a woman of noble birth should dress? Unless you've become a mercenary, which I know you haven't," she could feel his breath against her ear, "however I will say that the roguish look does suite you."

The leather of his gloves traced the outline of her belly button, her heart beginning to race. Then just as quickly as he had appeared before her, he seemed to glide away to the dresser which he had caught her rummaging through, his attention now fully on the object inside. With but his thumb and forefinger Reaver lifted the garment out of the drawer, a playful smile gracing his flawless face, "Really now, you could have simply asked me for this."

Lilith marched up to him and snatched the underwear from his hand, receiving an amused laugh, "They're not for _me_. Why would I need something so ridiculous?"

He shrugged, "Forgive me, my dear, I was under the impression that you were one of my many admirers."

She could feel her blush even along the tips of her ears, "I...!"

Reaver grabbed her hand, twirled her once, and then held her in a stance as if they were about to waltz, "You have grown a lot bigger since the last time we stood like this. I wonder if you even remember it?"

"Of course I remember," she huffed, pushing on his chest, "thanks to you I was picked on by all the other girls at the court. The only friend I had after you're little _dance_ was Elise, and only because she is Elliot's sister!"

"I heard about your dear Elliot," there was a strange note to his voice that she didn't understand, "something about his getting married to another woman."

Lilith had finally managed to worm her way out of his grasp, waiting for him to make another attempt to grab her. When none came, she went to pick up her sword, answering in a guarded tone, "Yes. They are quite happy together."

"And are you?"

She sighed, putting the weapon back where it belonged, "It doesn't matter if I am or not. I almost got him killed once," she stuffed the undergarments into her bag, "it would be to much of me to ask him to risk his life any more."

"I wonder if you'll ever break that nasty habit of worrying over other people?" He had sat down atop the large bed, crossing his long legs, "You know, your mother was afflicted by that same illness."

Lilith smiled proudly, "Then I guess there is not cure. And with that, I'm off..." She stopped in the doorway, her back turned to him, "Reaver?"

"Yes, dear Princess?"

"Take..." She bit back the tears coming to her eyes, "...take care of...of..."

"His Majesty is doing fine, I assure you, though I am quite surprised to hear you ask this of me. I was under the impression you two were not on good terms."

She continued walking, stopping at the first step to the real bedroom, "He's my brother, Reaver. I still love him, even though I can't forgive him."

He could hear her footsteps echo through the house, until finally the door opened and closed, and he was once again alone. Reaver sighed, running a hand over his face; she he truly was no longer the last Hero of Albion. A smile came to his lips, his voice echoing in the empty chamber, "I wonder what you would have said to me, after witnessing my handling of your daughter?" He knew his dear Sparrow would have probably skipped all form of conversation, preferring the quick and simple end of a pistol. Closing his eyes, Reaver tossed his hat to which ever way it would fly and laid back against the soft mattress, knowing what horrors awaited him in the night.

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She had knocked a good five times before anyone opened the door. Benjimina stood, her face that of eager excitement. Lilith smiled, then shoved the unwanted garments into the girl's hands, promptly turning on her heels to walk down the stairs. Benjimina laughed, but then shouted, "Wait! I didn't get to thank you!"

"Thank you for what?"

Lilith froze on the top step, looking down into the bright blue eyes of a smiling Ben Finn. She didn't have the luxury of a dark mansion to save her from her blush this time, which only made the soldier smile wider, "What did you do this time?"

"Only the greatest thing anyone had ever done for me, ever!" Thin arms draped around her neck, and Lilith was mortified to see the underwear dangling from one of the hands.

Ben burst into laughed, Lilith gentle removing herself from her apparently new friend's grasp and all but sprinting down the stairs. She was almost to the statue in town when Ben caught up to her, still laughing. She stopped, pointing a finger at the man, "If you say even _one_ word!"

The old soldier grinned, "Why would I need to? You know what you did-ouch!" He only laughed harder as her fist removed itself from his arm, following her back into town.

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**I always feel like the bottom of a story is always so dreadfully empty, so instead I thought I'd fill it with an interesting question. If someone can tell me who the dog's name is based on, I'll put them in the story as one of Reaver's many lovers, lol**

**Reaver: Why do you say that as a joke? I would consider it an honor.**

Me: I'm sure you would -_-

**Reaver: You should have named the dog after myself; though I guess that would have been rather confusing.**

**Me: True, you can't have two dogs named Reaver :3  
**

**Reaver: I can easily shoot that mouth of yours off, my dear~**

**Me: Good point...I'M DONE! G'NIGHT ALL n_n  
**


	3. News from the Underground

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Two: News from the Underground**

**Uh, this chapter isn't as long as I wanted it to be. I guess I consider it a filler chapter? Yeah, we'll go with that, lol. SO MANY REVIEWS! I love you guys, so much n_n! As to my previous question as the origin of the dog's name, it is indeed from Fandral the Dashing, of the Warriors Three! I forgot to ask you guys what names you wanted me to use, what you wanted to look like, etc., etc. SO! That little bit won't be in this chapter, but I garenttee it will be in the next n_n.**

**On a side note, I apologize for my depiction of Page; I only ever saw her as angry or suspicious, and she was only nice to me once I became Queen...  
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Reaver positively appalled Ferret. The man was bald, fat, and always smelled as if he'd just crawled from a sewer, which he supposed that was usually the case. It always amused him to see that the rather portly fellow deemed it necessary to keep armed guards around his person, even in the presence of his employer. Perhaps one day Reaver would test that confidence, but not today. Instead he sat quietly in a rather rickety old chair, his fingers laced together with his chin resting atop them, looking for all the world extremely bored.

The way in which Mr. Ferret twitched assured Reaver that the man knew of his boredom, and the sewer rat hastily announced, "We've also had some interesting news from our spies in the Resistance."

"Oh?" Reaver allowed his eyes to drift around the small cellar, wondering if those barrels were indeed full of mead.

"Y-yes, Master Reaver! Jollie!" Ferret barked, turning nervously feral eyes to a young man near the corner of the room. The small lad looked as frightened as Reaver was sure Ferret felt, and he pointed a finger towards his face. Ferret motioned for him to come forward, sighing, "Yes, you, you dolt! Come and tell Master Reaver here what you heard."

The boy had dazzling green eyes and bright orange hair, the freckles on his face now all to visible in his fear. Reaver let his eyes slowly drag themselves up to the boy's, and he kept any warmth from his words, "Well, out with it now. I haven't all day, you know."

"O-of course, s-sir. Right away, s-sir!" The boy continued to just stare at him until a raised eyebrow pushed the lad forward, "Um, well, you see, I was able to catch a glimpse of the Resistance's new ace in the hole, so to speak."

Reaver leaned back, letting the chair groan dramatically, "Go on..."

The boy gulped, "W-well, she's supposed to be a hero. And, well, not like your average save the day sort, but a real Hero! They've been calling her Lily, and she's been doing a lot around town; most of our men are behind bars thanks to her helping the guards and whatnot."

Reaver's gaze slowly returned to Ferret's, and he smiled wickedly, "Is this the same little girl who managed to foil your little plot to take the orphanage?"

"I...I didn't know her name, sir!" His face turned a rather sickly shade of pink, "And now I understand why I was duped so easily! How could I possibly stand up to a Hero?"

The chair in which Reaver had previously occupied now crashed against the wall in an explosion of splinters, the barrel of his Dragonstomper staring into the beedy eyes of the fat man, "Is that so? Perhaps it is time for me to find a new underling." He let the hammer click back slowly, the sound echoing through the chamber.

"I have more news! Please! P-please listen to me!"

"Make it quick, Ferret," Reaver sang, flashing a wolfish grin, "for you know, I am a busy man and time is money!"

The man was making a horribly disgusting wheezing sound, and for a moment Reaver assumed his heart would give out. However the jowels of the fat man jiggled once more as he sputtered, "The Resistance! They...they're planning on going to Aurora!"

Reaver held his gaze, "And how do they plan on doing that?"

"They're going to break into the docks...ah ha!" The man flinched as Reaver withdrew his firearm, replacing it back alongside his leg. There was a foul stench filtering through the air, and Reaver crinkled his nose at the stain that now blossomed at the front of Ferret's pants.

Retrieving his cane from the floor, Reaver began to walk out the room, "You should learn to control yourself better, Ferret dear. Had that puddle happened to tarnish _any_ part of my person, your waste would not have been the only stain on the floor." He allowed the metal door to slam behind him, his playful grin now turning into a true mask of disgust. How in the world did anything get accomplished with such men running things now-a-days? He missed the days when someone would actually answer his threats, or at least show a little backbone should they disagree with any of his proposals. Of course, they would all end up the same, shot dead before him, but still; at least there were some signs of courage.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Reaver only sighed as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He stood there for a while, under the shadow of Bowerstone Bridge, as memories began playing before his eyes. Where he stood used to be a small sandbar where the homeless used to sleep. The tiny shacks were gone, replaced by even shabbier looking stalls selling what he thought were pies, though at this time of night it was hard to tell. Across the lake was now a pleasant walkway; the docks long replaced after the construction of the industrial district. Memories of a particular rainy night came to mind, and he quickly replaced them with the need to become extremely drunk. He twirled his cane once, about to step into the lantern light, when he hear a very feminine, very familiar voice, "-You've done more than I thought you would, to be honest."

A smile came to his lips as he recognized the laugh that followed the statement, "Yeah, I guess I could say likewise."

Reaver walked to the edge of the water, staying within the shadow of the bridge yet able to see the reflected faces of those who stood above him. Even in her disguise Reaver could make out those big green eyes of the rebel Page, her hair hidden behind a scarf he'd often seen the women of his factory wear. Standing opposite her was the little Princess, her hair now free from its usual tied knots. Reaver almost clicked his tongue in disapproval at the young Page's choice of clothing. Brown on brown was very unbecoming, though he assumed a wanted woman would want little to do with being noticed. He watched as she leaned crossed arms against the lip of the bridge, her eyes staring out along the river, "I never thought a crowned princess to be so humble."

Lilith laughed again, "No, I wouldn't say humble. Just...pleasantly surprised I'm not dead yet."

This time Page laughed, a nose Reaver thought impossible, "The same could be said of all of us, I suppose."

Lilith joined her by the railing, brown hair hiding that charming face of her's, "I only wish it could still be said of Major Swift..."

"That wasn't your fault."

"I know, but..." She reached a hand up to her face, placing her hair behind an ear so Reaver could see her clearly, "...but I wish I could have done something. Poor Ben; he's not taking it well."

Page simply shrugged, "He's a soldier; he should be used to losing people."

"But not like that!" A loud clack echoed under the bridge as Lilith slammed her fist down, "A man like Swift should have died in battle, not like some circus act..."

"We all die, Lily; it matters not how it happens."

"That's a rather cold outlook."

"Warmth is something that will get you killed around here," she paused, then laughed slightly, "well, maybe not so much anymore. It's true what I told you before; the people are starting to believe."

"Let's just hope I can keep them believing," the princess's head fell, "don't misunderstand; I fully trust Swift's last report. But going to an entirely different continent? Breaking into a heavily guarded dock? Not even knowing if there will be a boat there or not..."

"Hm, you're right. I don't envy you this mission." There was a playful note to Page's voice, and the women both laughed.

After a while he heard Lilith sigh, though he could no longer see her, "You know, Ben will probably want to see you before we leave."

"I'm flattered, truly, but I've no interest in government dogs," Reaver heard the footsteps stop, followed by a hasty, "no offense."

Reaver could imagine the young Lilith crossing her arms, "He's a good man, you know. And he does care for you."

"Be that as it may, I have my eye on someone else, thank you." He could hear the Princess beginning to ask something, to which Page promptly cut her off, "And before you ask, no, I'm not going to discuss it. At least not now; I've been out in the open for to long." A lone pair of footsteps echoed across the bridge, "However, from the way you look at him I would have though you were the one interested in our Mr. Finn." It was quiet for the longest time, and Reaver was once again growing bored.

He was about to give his little Princess a surprise when he heard her say weakly, "I don't have the right to ask that of him...of anyone..." The echo of footfalls sounded once more, however these in the opposite direction , until they faded into nothing. Deciding it was safe (and that it had grown far to boring), Reaver quickly ascended the stairs that lead to the upper half of the market, yet instead of continuing down the road that would lead to Millfields he headed towards his factory. There was much to be done, it seemed.

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Lilith would often wonder why it was so easy for her to fall asleep in a very crowded, very noisy tavern, however as she lay in one of the Cock in the Crown's many semi-lumpy beds, she could feel her eyes slowly shutting out the world, even as a rather drunk young man started a fight below her.

_She was scared. At first she had enjoyed the new sense of freedom; no guards to watch her, no Jasper to tell her where to go, no Logan to tell her to get back to her lessons, and no Walter to scold her for being _unlady like._ She had remembered escaping the castle gates with Elliot, dressed as his sister, however they had somehow become separated, and now she stood in a rather dark, rather spooky wooded area, far from the lighted bustle of the castle town. She had tried to find her way back, but with every step she took it only seemed she got herself more and more lost._

_It wouldn't have been so scary if Elliot had kept up! She chewed the inside of her cheek, making herself become more angry than frightened as she tried to climb over a particularly large fallen log. Lilith fell over the moldy thing, landing with a splash into a puddle on the other side. Great, now Elise would be mad at her for getting her dress dirty. Her heart gave a start as she heard an unfamiliar call, then as she recognized the noise she berated herself for being such a baby. The owl came swooping down before her, snatching a little mouse that she had apparently scared from out of the log. Frowning, Lilith stood, trying to brush off the mud that was now caked on her bum. Convinced the stuff would never come out, she instead crossed her arms and continued to huff through the dark forest, tripping every now and then on a loose branch or weed._

_She didn't remember coming into the clearing, yet there she stood, the grass and trees cleared to reveal a most sinister cave. A full moon shone down, brightly illuminating the empty space as Lilith walked towards the middle. Then she heard a cry; she wasn't alone after all. It was a hurt, painful thing, full of fear and anger, and as Lilith turned to find it she saw a man hunched over on the ground. She could feel tears in her eyes, but her mother had taught her to help anyone she could, so the little girl began to walk cautiously towards the man, "S-sir...?"_

_The face that looked up at her was that of a demon's, yellow eyes shining from a pain-stricken face, "Run...!" She froze, unable to move, and the man gave a howl, "Urrrrrgh, RUN!" His nails ripped at his face, seeming to tear away the once human flesh to reveal something much more sinister beneath. His nose was now gone, replaced by a blood drenched snout that was covered in white fur, his teeth that of long nails. He grew at least three times his size, hunched over with long, muscular limbs dragging on the ground. The glowing yellow eyes closed, and his head slung back as he howled at the silver moon._

_Lilith took a step back, a twig snapping beneath her feet. The beast turned on her, maul salivating at the anticipation of his upcoming meal. Using its long legs, the creature lunged at her, the only thing she could do was to cover her face with her arms and scream..._

Bang!

_A single noise was heard, and Lilith was confused that she still lived to hear it. As she lowered her arms she found the creature had stopped moving, red liquid spilling from a hole in its head. She backed away from it, shaking, until her legs could hold her no more and she fell. She screamed as white draped arms warped around her stomach, kicking and punching as much as she could, all while screaming, "You can't eat me!"_

_"I hardly think such a bony little thing as you would make much of a meal."_

_She stopped moving and turned her head, meeting jovial brown eyes, "Reaver...?"_

_"Of course, little Princess. Now," he poked the top of her nose, "let's get you back to that brother of yours; I assume he's near death with worry."_

_He rearranged her so she rode piggy back as he marched through the rather thick bushes of Millfields. They were quiet for quite some time, until she felt tears stinging her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, however she knew she had only put more dirt on her face, "I wasn't scared..."_

_"Then that little scream I heard before was your battle cry, hm?"_

_"I _didn't _scream!"_

_"Forgive me, that _shriek_ I heard."_

_She saw a group of people ahead of them, a lantern in the hands of the shape of her brother. Lilith leaned in closer to his ear, pleading, "Please don't tell them! Please! They'll never let me out of their sight if they knew..."_

_"That you tripped and fell into a rather large puddle? I believe that will be quite hard to hide, little Princess."_

_She blushed, a smile cracking the drying mud on her face, "Thank you, Reaver."_

_"Thank me by convincing your brother to buy me a new coat." _

_She began to laugh, then as Fandral began to run up towards them Reaver had put her down and watched as she was scooped up into the relieved arms of an elder brother..._

Something she came to know as sunlight beamed in over her eyes, and Lilith groaned, pulling her blanket up over her head. Of all the things for her mind to remember, it had to be that. She laughed ironically as she recalled the balverines Reaver had set after her whilst in his trap. The world certainly worked in mysterious ways. She was about to allow said world to continue on without her for a day when she heard a deep chuckle coming from the corner of the room. She peeled back enough of the blanket for her eyes to be seen, and she received another laugh from a cross-legged Ben Finn, "Walter said you were a deep sleeper."

"Just how long have you been there?" She shot up, glad she had been to lazy to remove her clothing for the evening.

Ben simply shrugged, "Not long. The innkeeper said you were staying here, and I decided we'd get an early start on today's activities!" A playful smile wrinkled his eyes, "Though when I saw you sleeping so soundly, who would have the heart to wake you?"

She tossed her pillow at him, regretting its absence but satisfied by the cloud of feathers that now stuck to the blond hair, "I'm sure you've got better things to do than be a creepy old man."

"Not really, but now that you mention it," he jabbed his thumb behind him, face going serious, "Page sent me to find you, in all honesty. Apparently we're almost ready to go on our adventure."

Lilith stood, body protesting from the lack of warm blankets, "Well then, after you Mr. Finn."

He gave her a mocking bow, laughed when she punched him in the arm (again), and followed her out of the in, both not looking forward to the trip through the sewers.

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**Reaver: Oh my, do my senses decieve me or do I detect a love triangle?**

**Me: I like Ben.**

**Reaver: No, you like Simon Pegg. And I feel sorry for the poor sod; who could dream of comparing with Reaver?  
**

**Me: Is that jealousy I detect?**

**Reaver: It is rather hard to be jealous when I could easily bed them both.**

**Me: Yeah, good luck with that one...**

**THANK YOU FOR READING! Lol, I'll have the third chapter up soon; please leave feed back (you don't have to, but I would greatly appreciate it) n_n!  
**


	4. A NotSoPleasant Surprise

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Three: A Not-So-Pleasant Surprise**

**Oh my SCIENCE I am sorry for the long update! I was sick, for a very long time, and I'm pretty sure I'm still a bit under the weather, but anyway...am I rambling? Um, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter either; then again I could hardly see my screen through all the dots, but I digress, lol. Thank all of you for your wonderful reviews, and hopefully you're still reading this. And I hope to SCIENCE none of you catch whatever plague it is that has befallen me!**

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"This isn't going to work...!" Lilith emerged from the shadows of the sewer, well on the heels of a most confident Ben Finn.

The soldier simply laughed, "Oh, come now, I think you're underestimating just how charming I can be."

"So glad to know you can woo any man you see," she smirked as he shot her a look. Though it was well into the night the lanterns that lined the tall industrial buildings kept the rather small alleyways well alight, though the smog from the smoke stacks seemed more visible than Lilith would have liked. She had grown used to the combined aromas of sulfur, burning coal, and what she could only guess was human waste (she hoped with every fiber of her being that it wasn't). Moss grew between bricks that were far to old to support her weight, let alone that of an entire factory. She imagined the place was rather inspiring in its heyday, however as she looked upon it now she understood why most would feel hopeless and downtrodden.

They rounded a corner into a tiny clearing, and it was there that she saw the familiar purples and silver of her brother's guards. She frowned, grabbing Ben's arm before he walked dead into their sight, "Are you sure about this? Can't we just find a way to sneak around?"

"Unless you want to swim, and the water's damn cold this time of year." He walked a little to easily from her grip, and with a big grin he shouted, "Good evening, friend!"

The guard seemed to wake from dazing, and was none to appreciative of it. Lilith could see his eyes through the slits in his helmet; judging from the bags under them the man had been at this post for quite some time. Drawing his riffle, the man growled, "State your business or be gone."

"Well, you see good sir, my friend and I here are quite interested in joining your little group!"

"We are?"

Ben elbowed her in the ribs, "Yes, we _are_."

Lilith tensed as the man cocked the firearm that was most dangerously positioned at Ben's chest, "You've no business here. Leave."

Ben began to shake his hands, a goofish smile on his face, "You don't have any pamphlets for us to take? No forms to sign? In all honesty it's because those uniforms are so dashing, but we are quite the hard workers."

There was a sudden look of realization to the man's eye that Lilith did not like. She watched as his head leaned in closer, examined Ben's face, then shot back with a grimace, "You're that rebel! There's quite a bit of gold out for your head!"

"Is that so-?" The cutlass that was previously at his back was now in his hand, and with a flash of gold light the blade cut into the guard's shoulder. There was a shout behind the gate, and Ben sighed, "So much for under cover."

"And you were doing so well," Lilith laughed, charging a mix of fire and lightening that she was sure her target would feel in the morning...if the man lived. If anything could be said of her brother it was his exceptionally trained soldiers; the man charged at her with full force, not a trace of fear in his eyes. She released her spell, a fire canonball that ignited three others that stood to close. As electricity surged through their bodies, she joined Ben in cutting down two others who had tried to flank them, the clatter of steel and the cries of the dead heavy in the air.

Soon the yard was filled with bloodied or twitching bodies, and they advanced further into the warehouse, finding it all but unoccupied. They exchanged a nod before Ben shot to the left, rolled, and fired his rifle right between the eyes of a man brandishing dynamite; the bullet would have probably pierced his companion, had he not been wearing that squid-like helmet. Lilith took to the right, hopping onto some crates before leaping towards a hook, swinging to a platform manned by three men. She kicked the one closest to her target off the side, blasting the other two with an area fire spell. Their screams echoed in the wide building, followed closely by the crashing of crates. Wearing a triumphant smile, Lilith pulled the lever next to her, opening the wide doors.

Ben soon joined her, panting but otherwise unharmed. Lilith looked him over, poking him beneath his left arm, "You've got red on you."

He looked down and smiled, "Well, at least it's not mine. Now, come on!" She followed him as he leapt from the platform, both racing into the open air.

Lilith stopped, scanned the area, and began biting her lip, "Where's Walter? And Page?"

"I don't know, they should-!"

An explosion, powerful enough to send her flying. The next thing she remembered was her back hitting the wall, the air escaping from her lungs, and a rather annoying ringing sound in her ears. Something big was rolling towards her, but her eyes were to blurry to tell. She squinted, hoping to see through her daze, when strong hands wrapped around her arms. She had just enough time to figure out a gigantic metal cog was about to squash her when she heard another crash, felt herself fly through the air, then being covered by something warm.

Her eyes were closed, and she was struggling to breath, when she heard a muffled voice ask, "Are you alright?"

"I..." Her eyes opened, and she became quite aware of the warm thing that lay atop her. Lilith hoped the red glare from the now burning building would hide the burning of her cheeks.

Of course, fate is never so kind. Wearing a smug grin, Ben laughed, "Is this the time to be swooning, Lily?"

She slammed the palm of her hand against his face, successfully knocking him clear off her person. She stood, tugged her jacket back into place, and crossed her arms, "We don't have time for games, Ben!"

She could hear him laughing behind her, "Right, right. Well then, shall we?"

"You two! Halt, or you will be shot!" Down the alley an entire troupe of soldiers awaited them, muskets and swords drawn.

Lilith looked back at Ben, returned his smile, and shot a fireball towards a group of oil barrels, instantly igniting half the pier. The waters shimmered a haunting reflection to match that of the firey hallway which she and Ben now ran through. Soldiers screamed as they tried to escape the hungry inferno, some even darting into the cold waters that lapped up against the wall. The few that remained held their ground, the faces like gruesome demons in the firelight. Lilith came to a skidding halt, drew her sidearm, and fired at a strap holding some barrels on a shelf. A flood of wooden barrels cascaded into the open area, knocking down more than half of those who remained. Ben withdrew his rifle, picking off those who tried to get up while Lilith took care of the frontal assault with her Casanova.

Both were bloodied and exhausted by the time the pier was little more than a graveyard. Lilith shook her head, sighing; she probably knew some of these men. The fire had only grown as they fought well into the night; a glowing beacon to alert the rest of the army exactly what they were doing. She frowned, flicked the blood from her blade, and turned to Ben, "Were on earth are they?"

"Bloody hell, you two managed to make quite a mess!" Lilith couldn't help the relieved smile that came to her face as Sir Walter appeared out of the smoke. Not to her surprise the old soldier had nary a scratch on him, and he strolled into the pier with a confident smile, "Nicely done, though I think it best we hurry."

Ben came to join them, still reloading his rifle. Poorly hidden concern wavered in his voice, "So, where's Page?"

A big hand landed on his shoulder, and Walter laughed, "Relax! She's staying behind; someone needs to run the Resistance while we're gone. Now with that said," he began to walk down the pier, kicking a soldier back into unconsciousness along the way. Lilith followed, smiling with excitement. She was going to another continent; another world! It troubled her as to why her brother never told her about his adventures, and even more to deny that Aurora even existed. A wasteland, barren of life; something there had changed her brother, and she would soon find out.

She ran down the stone walkway, the water to either side of her, "How long until they come after us?"

Walter shrugged, "Depends on how fast they can dig through all that rubble." He came to a stop before a small wooden dinging, and with a heavy sigh he said, "Well, it'll float..."

"Or, you know," Ben turned, holding his arms wide, "we could just take this one."

"This one" was a rather large cruiser ship Lilith had seen drifting around the harbor from her garden perch, back when she still lived in the castle. The bow was flat, save for a small rise where the captain's courters were, and two giant paddle wheels rested on either side, removing the need for sails or oarsmen, giving way to the power of steam. Cannons lined the the left side, their openings leaving small gaps in the railing. Then her eyes fell on the twin "R"s that were engraved on the side panneling. Lilith frowned, "Um, I don't know if that's such a good idea..."

Ben turned his head, smirking, "It wouldn't be the first thing you've stolen from him."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Walter shot her a suspicious look, frowning.

Lilith walked by them both, stopping only to give Ben's foot a meaningful stomp, "Nothing. Not. A. Thing."

The two men joined her, their heavier footsteps causing small ripples on the water below. The flames behind her were slowly dying down, the once proud roar now more of a simmering whimper. Lilith stopped and looked back, hearing the distant clamor of combat. She frowned, biting her lower lip. Walter stood along side her, his dark eyes softening, "I know you wish to help, but they're fighting to give us this chance. Don't waste their sacrifice."

"I...suppose you're right," she smiled weakly, pounding her fist to her chest, "well then, to lands far beyond!"

"Don't suppose you'd mind getting on the ship now, right?" Ben had already managed to release most if not all the chains holding the vessel to the harbor, his breath visible in the cold night air. Walter gave her a reassuring squeeze to her hand, then climbed alone the wooden walkway onto the boat, his face going a little green in the process. Lilith followed quickly, terrified that the flimsy boards beneath her would snap at any moment. Once on the ship she was amazed at how calm it felt; she was used to the sickening rocking of her brother's war cruisers. She supposed it was of Reaver's own design, and fairly new at that, least all her brother's ships be outfitted with the same steam-powered engines. She looked up at one of the tall smokestacks that pierced the back end of the boat, surprised as clouds of steam began billowing from their tops. She frowned, turning to see behind her, "Did anyone do that?"

Walter withdrew his pistol, and Lilith could see Ben's steel reflect in the firelight. Lilith sent a small charge to her gauntlets, the air so tense she could practically see it. Footsteps could be heard beyond the doors of the captains cabin, a lone shadow slowly growing in the window. Walter came to her side, pistol aimed at the glass, "Come out, nice and slow..."

The shadow stopped, turned to face them, and seemed to laugh; a sound that was dreadfully familiar. Lilith put her hand on the barrel of Walter's pistol, lowering the weapon, "Either come out or stay inside, Reaver. Either way, we're taking this ship."

With a bang the doors were kicked open, and in the darkness she could barely make out that trademark grin, "Now now, little Princess, let's not be to hasty. This _is_ one of my more valuable possessions; much like the factory I believe you just demolished."

Ben came to her right, a cold grimace upon his face, "You won't have to worry about them if you're dead."

"Ah, if it isn't the bold and brave Mr. Finn, how _do _you do?" There was a cruelty to his smirk that Lilith had rarely seen, "I say you are faring much better than our departed Major Swift."

"I'm going to enjoy gutting you-!"

"Enough!" Lilith stood between them, arms outstretched, "We don't have time for this. Reaver, I assume since the engines are running you wish to come with us?"

"Such a clever little flower, dear Lily! Of course, I was never one to deny myself adventure; though I believe protecting my precious vessel might have played a bigger role in my appearance."

She nodded, turning her attention to a fuming Ben, "Can I rely on you to keep your head?"

"But he's a monster-!"

"Ben Finn! I will not ask you again!"

He seemed to hesitate, fighting to decide between listening to this screaming woman, or gutting that smiling deviant. Blue eyes darted between the two, until finally he sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair, "Alright, princess...I won't kill him. But I promise you if he does _anything_-!"

Lilith patted him on the shoulder, smiling, "You'll fill him with holes or something along that line, I know. But not right now; can't you hear the chimes?"

It was then that all three men lifted their head to hear the sirens going off in the distance. They were going to be chased, both by land and sea, and it would be relentless. The sounds of marching set the beat to their escape, and it was quickly growing faster and faster. Though Logan's war galleys were docked at the other side of the Industrial District, it wouldn't take them long to catch up to them. Lilith ran up the stairs that led to the upper deck, scanning the horizon. She could barely make out those of the Resistance, still fighting to give them time. However they were quickly becoming outnumbered by the silver helmets of her brother's force; they would have to retreat soon or risk heavy casualties. She turned on her heel, sea breeze tossing her hair, "Reaver, get us out of here!"

He bowed deeply, "As you wish, my dear." He quickly disappeared deep into the unlit cabin, where she only assumed the wheel and controls were located.

"How do we know he won't just steer us into enemy hands?" Ben asked, eying the taller man suspiciously.

Lilith rolled her eyes, "Then go with him and make sure he doesn't!"

Walter frowned, rubbing his beard, "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll watch him, not you." The ship groaned to life beneath them, and Lilith had to hold onto the railing as it seemed to kick out of the docks. She watched in amazement as the water seemed to part between them. Looking back she saw a line of purple suites, rifle barrels staring them down, "Get ready!"

A shot rang out below her, smoke rising from Ben's shoulder, "Way ahead of you, Princess." She watched him take aim, smile, and fire, a responding cry carrying over the water from the other side.

She raced down the stairs, frowning, "How many bullets do you have left?"

She noticed him wince as the rifle kicked back, a body splashing into the sea, "Nine, minus that one."

"Here, take these." She handed him what little ammo she had bothered to bring, frowning at the lack of it.

He raised an eyebrow, "Don't you think you'll need these?" Instead of an answer with words he got a booming response form one of the canons, a smile spreading across his face, "Right, nevermind."

The docks were growing smaller and smaller, Lilith watched as Fairfax Castle became nothing but a shimmering blur. The calm wouldn't last, she knew, but it was nice to be able to catch her breath. The night was as clear as crystal, stars glittering against a cold winter sky. The moon looked like a menacing half smile, as if it knew something that she did not. A pit was forming in her stomach, and she was not looking forward to the coming hours.

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**Reaver: So I'm to come along, then? I do believe this is quite far from the canon story-line.**

**Me: It's a fanfic, and I'm sick...and it puts you in it more, so why are you complaining?**

Reaver: You're sick?

**Me: Y-yeah...?**

Reaver: How dreadful. Do keep a good five yard distance from me, please.

**Me: I should just spit on you T_T**

**Reaver: I wonder what will hit first? Your saliva or my bullet?**

**Me: QUE THE GOOD, BAD, AND UGLY THEME PLEASE~  
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	5. Shambles

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Four: Shambles**

**HA! IT'S FIVE IN THE MORNING~ Lol, oh well, I couldn't pass up this sudden urge to write, so here we are! I do hope I didn't make to many mistakes in my sleep deprived madness, but Imma postin' it anyway :D**

**I had a lot of fun with this chapter; I do so love ocean adventures. I was really bummed when you couldn't go out to sea in the third one...at least you got to hunt down pirate treasure with good old Sparrow! On a side note, I wonder if I am keeping with Reaver's personality in this story? I hope so, but I guess I'll let you all decide. Thanks again for the reviews, and the well wishes; I am feeling a bit better now n_n**

**Well, I'll shut up and let you read. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!**

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Reaver shut the door to the captain's quarters with an amused smile, reminiscing of days long past. How the princess had argued with them that she need no sleep, how she was perfectly fine. A small laugh escaped him as he remembered the adorable way her head would nod as she slowly drifted into unconsciousness. Amazing how the traits of the parent can pass down to the child, even when said parent was only around for a minuscule five years of said child's life. In all honesty he did not know how to feel about that; he hardly remembered his own parents anymore, and of other subjects he would only allow his sleeping mind to remember. Ah, and what horrible memories they were.

The sun had started to rise before them; a truly magnificent sight that painted the world to a near golden brilliance, the water undulating in perfect time to the movement of his beloved ship. A shame he had yet come up with a name for it yet, however he had little time for his precious boating adventures. Sadly, the Industrial world had taken more of a toll on him than he would have liked. There was a constant feel of being closed in; suffocated by the giant metal beams, sulfur filled air, and horribly cramped walkways. Alas, twas the world he now lived in, and he supposed it did make these little jaunts of adventure all that more enjoyable.

As he walked along the decks, enjoying the early morning air, it surprised him little to find a Sir Walter Beck looking across the water with a most grave visage. Perhaps it was time for a bit of sport? With a sly little smirk that showed the slightest hint of white teeth, Reaver cantered up to the old soldier, leaning slightly against the black iron of one of his canons, "And a good morning to you, Sir Walter!"

"Is it? Forgive my bluntness, but any time of day with you around just gives me a headache." The old man did not look at him, but simply continued to stare out at the horizon.

Reaver clicked his tongue, placing tinted goggles over his eyes to help from the glare, "I would wish that to end, and soon. We are to become likely allies, are we not?"

"Oh balls, like I believe that for a second." This time the man did turn to him, not a hint of amusement in those dark eyes, "I don't know why you're here, I'll admit that, but I'm sure it's only in your best personal interest." He crossed his arms, sword belt slightly chiming, "You did it before with the Old Queen, and with Logan, so why should I believe you'll be any different towards the Princess?"

"Oh, you _do_ so have me figured out, don't you? And here I thought you were just another oblivious soldier who had nary a thought of his own packed away in that wrinkled head of yours."

"You should know Her Majesty would have never kept me around if that were true."

He put a finger to his lips, "I do wonder how well you knew Her Majesty?"

Walter raised an eyebrow, glaring daggers at the man, "What are you saying?"

"Perhaps all this hatred towards my undeserving person is your way of showing a deeply seeded jealousy? Unless I'm mistaken," his smile grew wider, "perhaps dear Sparrow did give her loyal dog a toss?"

There was a large hand gripping his throat, yet he smiled on. Reaver could have easily deflected this little attempt on his life, but how boring that would have been. He watched, savoring the hatred that glowered in the old knight's eyes, "_Never_ speak of Her Majesty that way. Not in front of me, nor anyone. _Are. We. Clear?_"

His head was beginning to grow quite light, never-the-less he answered with a playful chortle, "So...I take it...you never knew...the...the pleasure...!" Walter sent him flying across the deck, yet with the years of experience Reaver extended his right hand, flipped, and landed gracefully back on his feet, tugging on his jacket to smooth the rinkles.

Walter had once again turned his back to him, "I don't know what possessed her to...to do such a thing with the likes of you. I often thought it was some trickery on your part, yet there was always a sadness in her eyes when she talked of you," he gave a short laugh, a small hint of mockery at its end, "one would almost say she pitied you."

"Pity?" Reaver spat, his fun now spoiled, "What utter rubbish."

"Oh? No witty comeback? No well thought of insults?" Walter turned, a rather vicious smile wrinkling his eyes, "Perhaps there's some truth to it, then?"

"I grow tired of your company. If you'll excuse me." The urge to shot this man was almost to much to bear, yet he predicted the death of this man by his would also lead to the Princess's by his. His stance was much stiffer than he would have liked, never-the-less Reaver could no longer stay within sight of the old soldier, and he headed back to the captain's cabin.

Before he could reach the doors Walter called out to him, "Keep you eyes on the horizon; Logan won't give up just because we've taken to sea."

"Of course," he answered shortly, turning the knob and practically slamming the door behind him, thankful for the cool darkness that surrounded him.

The room in which he stood looked more like an elaborate study than a stern, however it did suite his needs rather well. The wheel stood at the center of the room, windows on all sides allowing a full view, save behind him, yet he had created a rather clever device that allowed one to look through a slender tube to see great distances in either direction. A perascope, he believed is what his old butler Mr. Hatch had called it, however he couldn't quite remember it at the moment. A plush red carpet lay at his feet, trimmed in golden embroidery; a reminder of possesions long sold and gone. Lavish wine cupboards lined the walls, and a small writing desk stood in the corner of the room, a small telescope and map resting on its surface. Behind the wheel were the captain's bedchambers, where he had placed a sleeping Lilith. Oh how utterly delicious the looks on the other men's faces were as he carried her to the back of the ship.

It still amazed him that the Princess still held that charming sense of childishness, even after all her trials and exploits. Perhaps young Sparrow had been the same, before she had been tortured in the Spire. Ah, it had taken her many a year to finally tell him that story, and it explained much of her untrusting nature...however he did try to betray her quite often back in those days. In all honesty he was surprised he hadn't come to hate the old Queen, what with her practically banning piracy, and the creation of the city guard had been cause for many a headache, and empty purse. He had tried many times just killing all the soldiers, but then one of them would wise up and call for the Queen herself, and then his little game would come to an end.

King Logan was no where near as fun. The boy used to be, no doubt about that, however within the last four years he seemed to have lost his spark. Why, he even allowed child labor and all sorts of practical yet unethical means of business to begin. However the King's short temper towards him never seemed to change. The lad had distrusted him from the first day they had met, even after he'd given his small sister that collie puppy. It was always good fun to see just how far he could push the young monarch, but now it only seemed to be a minor annoyance, and since his proposals always led to the route of more money, Reaver usually ended up with what he wanted. He wondered why he felt a small sting of disappointment in this? He looked at the door to his chambers, and wondered how his little sister would decide. He had heard she had saved up quite a bit of money over the past few months; in fact, she had passed out working at a smithy for twenty-four hours straight. Apparently the younger of the two was going to run the kingdom with her own gold; an admirable and amusing idea, Reaver thought. Replacing his goggles back along the rim of his hat, Reaver walked quietly to the twin doors, pushing them open lightly.

Soft morning light washed the room in a gentle blue, the ocean water reflecting below the wide windows. He placed his hat atop the golden hat stand, walking across the white rug with little to no sound, until he came before his king sized bed. This one lacked the drapes of the beds in his manor, however the tall headboard had twin towers with one "R" each carved at their tops, his insignia painted black against the dark wood board that held them together. The comforter was white fur on the top, and a plush black fabric on the reverse, so when you turned down the covers it was his combined shades. The pillows were quite large, and a mix of both white and black rested against the headboard. It was here that he found a still sleeping Lilith.

He was surprised to see her face was in fact, not the image of idealic peaceful sleep, but much more that of confused hurt. Her eyes danced behind delicate eyelids, as if searching for something in their darkness. Her lips were parted, ever-so-slightly, and every now and then she would bite the lower of the two. Her breathing became irregular at times, and once he thought she had whispered, "Logan". Reaver sat gently by her side, running a hand down his face, "I suppose it is a rather tragic thing, having to fight your own sibling." He traced a gloved finger down the line of her jaw, whispering, "I wonder what you would say, if I asked you to join me in a life of the sea? You would make quite an interesting pirate, my dear Lilith..." She stirred slightly under his touch, a small smile coming to her face.

Reaver stood, not liking the feelings he was experiencing right now. This was ridiculous; such preposterous feeling over a mere child! Yet as he stood there, his eyes slowly drifting back to her sleeping form, Reaver could not deny that sickeningly sweet feeling near the edge of his stomach. How long ago was it since he has felt such a feeling? Reaver rubbed his eyes; they were to many to count. Perhaps that was his delima, he was beginning to feel those years catch up with him. A sad smile traced his lips, and he whispered, "You'll be the death of me, little Princess..."

There was a small shimmer off in the distance, something that should not be there. Reaver knew what it was before his eyes even saw it in full detail. Walking closer to the window, Reaver placed his hand over his eyes and stared out at the horizon, a vicious grin transforming his face, "Well well, seems dear Logan has some taste in war ships after all!"

"Hm...what...?" Her words were slurred, and as the Princess leaned up her hair fell forward in an untied mess. Half-lidded eyes found him by the window, and she smiled, "Oh, hello Reaver..."

He smiled sweetly, holding back an amused laugh as he realized she was still half asleep. What a wonderful wake-up call this would be, "And hello to you, my dear. I wonder if you would like to see your brother's armada in person?"

"His what...his what?" Her eyes shot open, and she practically lept from the bedsheets. Reaver did laugh when she almost tripped placing her boots back on her feet, "Does Walter know? Where's Ben?"

"Sir Knight is stationed by the canons, and I will inform him as soon as you are ready. As to our Mr. Finn, he sleeps in the servants quarters below deck."

She nodded, poorly hidden excitement on her face, "Right, I'll go get Ben then." She dashed to the door, skidded to a halt, and looked back at him, "Um, Reaver?"

He smiled, though kept his eye on the oncoming vessels, "Yes, my dear?"

"I'm glad you're here. I mean, who better to have in a ship battle than the legendary Pirate King himself?"

"Why, my dear Princess, I do believe I've never told you any of those stories." He gave her a sly smirk, "I wonder where you heard such tales?"

She blushed, "I, uh, I found your autobiography. For the library! It had nothing to do with-!"

"I know, my dear. Now, please go and fetch our young soldier friend; it would be a shame for him to miss all the excitement."

"Right," her hand slipped on the handle, "right!" She practically slammed the door off the hinges, and Reaver laughed once again.

* * *

She almost ran face first into Walter, who had apparently noticed the enemy vessels. He was carrying a rather heavy looking amount of cannon balls in his arms, and Lilith didn't envy him the load. She gave him an encouraging smile, received a nod, and continued running towards the door leading to the lower decks, hoping Ben was more of a light sleeper than she. It was a shame that such a beautiful day was about to be ruined by bloodshed, but then she supposed she shouldn't complain; it was bright and clear and she would be able to see her targets...even though she was a horrible shot. Logan had always been the one with an eye for marksmanship, and she had always envied him for it. However she supposed a well placed fireball could do a lot more harm than a barrage of bullets.

The lower decks were extremely dark, but she dare not use her magic to light her way. Instead she kept the door to the main deck open, hoping she could find her way by that alone. It was extremely spacious below deck, most of it used for storing food and water, but there was a tiny kitchen and eating area to her right, another flight of stairs in front of her, and what could only be the servants quarters to her left. They stood out like tiny wooden boxes with a simple door in their center, almost completely blending in with the crates and barrels that were stacked around and between them. Lilith sighed, hoping it wouldn't take her long to find him.

She knocked on the first door and got no response, and as she cracked it open slightly she found no bodies sleeping on the net hammocks. She frowned, wondering why Reaver had not simply put her in one of these. Then she would blush fiercely at the thought of being in Reaver's bed and decided now was not the time for such thoughts, and continued her search, walking to the second room. She could hear shuffling above her, and Lilith knocked quickly on the next door, again not hearing a response. However as she opened the door a light snoring could be heard from within, and she smiled mischievously, backing away slightly. Heaving her foot until her knee was practically in her chest, Lilith kicked in the door, following her attack by a shout of, "Hey Ben!"

In the dim light she saw the soldier wake with a start, his arms flailing, then his body falling from the top hammock with a loud thud. Lilith gasped and ran after him, immediately going to her knees beside him, "Oh Ben, I'm sorry! I just thought...are you alright?" He lay motionless before her, face down on the wooden floor. For a moment she thought he wasn't breathing, and her heart started to race, "Ben? Ben Finn? Oh no, oh please, it was only a joke...please...!" Tears were stinging her eyes, and she reached her hands out to turn him over when the man flipped with amazing speed, caught her arms, and laughed, causing Lilith to practically jump out of her skin (and a rather shrill shriek that she would later be very embarrassed about).

Ben lay on the ground, perfectly fine, smiling triumphantly, "I guess that'll teach you not to play tricks on people."

"You horrible man...!" A tear fell from her face, and she quickly turned her head.

It wasn't quick enough, however, for Ben had released his grip and sat up, "Are you crying?" She heard a breathless laugh, "Over me? Really? I didn't know you cared so much, Lily."

"I don't! Who would, if you do such mean things like that!" She snapped, fighting the urge to punch out his teeth.

He laughed again, "Maybe you needed to learn that sometimes tricks can have twin sides?"

She crossed her arms, glaring, "You talk to me as if I'm some naive child."

"You are naive," this time she did raise her hand, and Ben put his up in defense, "Wait, wait, wait! I meant that in a good way! In a good way!"

She lowered her fist, frowning, "Oh? And how, exactly?"

He stood, brushed off the front of his shirt, and extended his hand to help her, "It's...endearing."

She grabbed his hand, allowing him to help her off the floor. She didn't meet his eyes, instead she began to walk out the door, "There are ships on the horizon. Reaver says their Logan's."

"Ah, well, that explains the lovely wake-up," he frowned, the usual playful tones of his voice now seriously muted, "how long until they've caught up with us?"

She shrugged, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face, "I don't know; maybe an hour? I didn't really look and see."

"Well then, I guess we'd best get ready. What a shame to be unprepared for our guests." They walked into the sunlight together, nearly blinding after spending so much time in the darkness of the lower deck. As her eyes focused Lilith noticed a considerable lack of steam pouring from the smoke stacks, and frowned. Walter was busy arming the cannons with what looked to be gunpowder, his salt and pepper hair sticking to the sides of his face. Ben placed a hand on her shoulder, "Go and see Reaver; I'll help Walter." She watched him as he walked and joined the old knight, looking a bit guilty as Walter grumbled something at him. Lilith had the sinking suspicion it was about her scream.

She raced across the deck once more, stopping only to see how close the war galleys had gotten. To her surprise, quite close, yet to her relief there was only one, but for it to be so large at this distance was troubling. She could easily make out her brother's sigil on the purple and red sail that billowed in the wind, along with nearly eighty shining silver helmets above deck; it was impossible for her to know how many awaited below. She had a most sickening feeling that they wouldn't win this fight, or at least the ship might not. Frowning, Lilith continued to the captain's cabin, pushing both doors open wide.

She found Reaver standing by the wheel, his face more amused than she would have liked, "Why did you slow down the ship?"

He looked through a tiny tube that hung from the ceiling, his smile never leaving, "I don't believe we have speeds that would get us far from these annoyances, so I decided it best we save power. Besides, I'd rather not push her so hard that _we_ end up being the ones blowing up her engines."

"Do you...think we have a chance?"

Reaver looked her dead in the eye with a seriousness she rarely knew, "Do you want my opinion or a sweet lie?"

"Is it that bad?"

His smile returned, the little heart wrinkling under his eye, "My dear, trust me when I say we will live through this. My boat...almost certainly not, but your Reaver hasn't lived so long without coming up with a few escape routes."

She bowed her head, rubbing her eyes, "Reaver, I'm sorry. I got you involved in this, and now you're boat's going to be-"

"There will be time for apologize after our little scuffle, yes? Of course, you can always just fund the building of my new vessel, once you become Queen."

She looked up, loose hair flowing gently in a soft sea breeze, "Thank you, Reaver. I won't forget this."

"Of course you won't, my dear; it involves me. Now, do be a good girl and hurry to dear Walter's side? He does look ever so exhausted." He watched her bolt through the doors once more, and he smiled as he heard the war horn of the other ship, excitement blooming in his chest.

They were in range now, and she watched as Ben took out three men with magnificent accuracy. Lilith and Walter merely watched, neither fire, pistol, nor canon able to reach the distant vessel yet. There was a scowl on the young soldier's face, and he barked, "Were the hell is Reaver? Some Hero of Skill he is!"

"He's steering the ship, Ben..." Lilith answered, biting the tip of her thumb to fight off some of the anxiety. She didn't like this; normally her battles were up close, with little to no waiting. It was torture to see your foe yet be unable to do anything.

Ben fired two more rounds, the sixth jamming in his barrel, "Blast it! Go get the bloody idiot and tell him to help! It's not like there are any cliffs to steer off of on an ocean!"

She heard Walter run down the stairs before she saw him, and now she felt utterly useless. The boat had grown closer, soon they would be firing bullets of their own, and she could only hope the men would be thrown off by the rocking of the waves. She didn't hope to highly. There were small sounds of arguing below her, then the echo of footsteps, until finally she saw both men emerge on the top deck, Walter grimacing and Reaver smiling as usual. He carried a rather expensive looking rifle over his shoulder, gold trimming wrapped delicately around a polished wooden handle that melded seamlessly with the metal barrel. He looked to Ben with a smug jeer, "What's the matter, boy? Can't handle that little toy of yours?"

"Any other time I'd _love_ to show you just how well I can, but in case you haven't noticed we're about to be fired on." A small shell popped from his riffle's barrel, rolling onto the floor with a loud _tink_ sound. Ben quickly began reloading his weapon, so quickly Lilith could hardly see his fingers move.

Reaver had come up beside him, replaced the rifle over his other shoulder, looked at his hand and fired, a body falling into the ocean mere moments later. His smile widened, "I hope you last longer than he did."

"Please, you two, this is serious. No shooting each other," Lilith sighed, feeling older than her twenty years, "Walter and I will go man the cannons. Yell for me when their close enough for magical attacks."

Another shot burst from Ben's riffle, and he answered stiffly, "Got it."

"Yes yes, do go now; leave this job to the big boys...so to speak." He followed them with his eyes until the reached the cannons, firing another shot at the same time. As yet another corpse polluted his beautiful sea, he looked down at the smaller man before him, smiling playfully, "It doesn't have to be all so serious. How about a wager; the man who shoots the most gets five hundred gold pieces once returning to Albion."

Ben stood straight, copied Reaver's stance, and fired three shots in unison, three splashed almost simultaneously falling into the water. Reaver admired the young man's cocky smirk, "Five hundred? I'll take you up on that."

* * *

Reaver assumed they must have been fighting for hours. The sun had risen well above them by the time the ship came to their side, and more than half of her crew had been either shot, burned or blown from her decks by the time they had reached them. He watched as Lilith ducked behind the railing, avoiding a storm of bullets that whizzed above her. She quickly sent an ice storm across the waters; if the frozen daggers didn't kill the men it would certainly make it more difficult for them to stand. There was a great deal of screaming, and soon a few more corpses floated along the waves; at least those who weren't frozen and sent to the bottom.

Mr. Finn, who's body count was now nearing the thirty mark, had done much the same as the Princess, ducking behind the other railing while he reloaded his rifle, Walter standing above him with his pistol drawn. The old man was a good shot in his own right, the old man severely crippling their ship by blasting a few of their lanterns to fiery bits. Those that remained on the boat were very few, at least twenty, but they were growing tired, and he feared the would soon run out of ammunition. Taking careful aim, Reaver shot at the rope holding the sail to the mast, smiling triumphantly as it came crashing down on half of the crew, "I believe that would make fifty seven."

"That doesn't count!" Ben growled, hopping from his cover to shoot down his thirty first, followed quickly by his third and forth.

Apparently the loud crash had been enough to coax those who remained below deck to surface, and Reaver cursed at their numbers; they were an additional thirty, far to many for the amount of bullets he had left. There was a cry below deck, and his eyes went to the canons where Lilith stood. He soon realized she had been loading all four canons by herself, and seemed to be frustrated that the flint would not spark. He turned and aimed his rifle, shouting, "Step back, please!"

She looked up, realized what he was doing, and swerved to the side as his bullet seared the tops of the canon's wicks, all four booming their lethal contents into the ship across them. The enemy ship was now heavily taking on water, and the panicked cries of her crew carried over like a sweet melody. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw the glint of a pistol, and before he knew where it was aimed it fired. The smile that was on Lilith's face quickly evaporated into simple surprise, a red flower blooming above her left shoulder. With a snarl he tore his gaze from her and shot the fool in the leg, then the other leg, followed by the arms, chest, and finally the head before he threw down his riffle and jumped over the railing to the lower deck.

He got their in time to catch her before she hit the hard wooden floor, her face growing pale. Lilith looked up at him with clouded blue-gray eyes, "What...what happened?"

He laughed weakly, "I believe you've been shot, my dear."

"Oh..." She hissed as she tried to move her arm, "That...rather hurts..."

"Reaver!" He looked up to see a rather ingeinious thing. Someone had thought to bring a crossbow, tie a burning rag to said crossbow's arrow, and fire it into the pipes that would lead to the engines. He wondered how quickly the combined heat and oxygen with all that burning fuel would take until it blew the ship to tiny pieces. It turned out to be enough for him to shield the girl that lay in his arms, then the world shattered, and all grew black.

* * *

**No witty banter between Reaver and myself, instead I was going to ask what you all thought of my Princess? I sort of worry she's a bit to childish...do you guys like her? I'm a little ashamed to say it but I sort of based her on myself, because every time I write one of her scenes I think, "What would I do in that situation?" Well, here's hoping my ego doesn't end up a foot in my mouth, lol. Hope you all enjoyed it, and I'll update soon...hopefully! **


	6. Shipwrecked

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Five: Shipwrecked**

**This is a long flashback, lol. It's not all flashback, but still...this is a LONG flashback. Thank you all for your reviews (despite what Reaver may think it is my true muse), lol. I guess I don't have much to say, besides I hope you all enjoy this. I'll have the next chapter up really soon, since I sort of cut this one in half (it was getting waaaaaaay to long, lol). Well, please enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

**(I was so happy you guys liked my Princess ;-;)**

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_A ball, the first one in her honor. She had turned sixteen, after all; Logan had said it was about time. She believed he just wanted revenge for all the times he had been forced to one of these horribly embarrassing affairs, and had told this to him repeatedly. The only response she received was a flick on the nose and a laugh. Lilith sighed, scanning the ballroom below to find her brother; it would be a simple thing, as he refused to wear the ridiculous powdered wigs that seemed to popular amongst the nobility. She laughed quietly as she saw Elise saving him from a group of rather large, pushy women who had surrounded him like wolves. She hoped they would find suitable cover against this storm. Logan deserved a bit of enjoyment before his next expedition. She had begged for the chance to go with him, but he simply would not allow it; something about keeping an eye on everything while he was gone._

_Her skirts let out a whisper as she leaned up against the railing, growling slightly as she removed the ridiculous headpiece that was piercing her brain. Lilith knew Jasper would be displeased with her for messing up her hair, but the bun was becoming much more of a nuisance than she could handle, and within a few moments of pin digging, she had released shoulderlength locks, curled slightly from its previous styling. She was starting to wonder if anyone would notice her escaping back to her room when a familiar voice called her name, "Oh, there you are!"_

_She watched as Elliot climbed up the stairs, two glasses of red liquid in his hand. A mischievous smile lit up doe brown eyes, and as he came beside her he said, "I've been looking all over for you. Care to try your first drink of wine? Walter said I could take one each, but we're not to tell Jasper."_

_Lilith laughed, "Or anyone. Are you sure he didn't just give you cherry juice and say it was wine?"_

_He handed her a glass, smiling, "I admit I might not have waited for you to sample a taste of my own."_

_"How rude."_

_"Says the princess who leaves her own ball."_

_She took a deep breath, heaved the liquid down her throat, and sneezed at the unexspected bubbles that tickled her nose, "I was not the one who wanted them here in the first place."_

_He wrapped an arm around her waist, letting her head rest on his shoulder, "I know, but Logan only wants to keep your mother's spirit alive. These parties spread goodwill among the land owners, though I think they only come for the free booze."_

_Lilith noticed how her head was slightly spinning, and she giggled, "Can you get drunk on a simple glass of wine?"_

_Elliot shrugged, "I'm not sure; sorry to say I'm not exactly an expert."_

_She lifted her head, pushing away from him gently with a gloved hand, "I think...I should go lay down."_

_He looked at her, concern on his face, "Shall I escort you?"_

_She covered a hiccup with her hand, "No, I'll be fine. Would you mind telling Logan I've come down with a headache? He'll believe that."_

_"Right," Elliot laughed, watching her anxiously as she teetered down the stairs. As she reached the bottom floor he seemed to remember something, and called after her, "Oh, be on your guard! Percy is supposed to be here!"_

_"I'm not afraid of-" she hiccuped again, "him!" Wishing the world would stand still, Lilith began marching through the throws of party goes and cat callers, some of which had hair white enough to not need their powdered hair pieces. She passed the bustle of the main ballroom, the heat of the people enough to make her head spin. In the distance she saw a familiar white suit that had only moments ago spun her around in such a graceful way, and her wine-stained face became even pinker with a blush. She passed by quickly, gathering her skirts to flee more easily._

_The night air was a blessing on her exposed shoulders, and she lifted her hair to sooth the heat on the back of her neck. She looked out on the upper level of the garden and frowned, lowering her arms as a small breeze tossed her hair. Her heels clicked along the cobblestone walkway, and as she reached the stairs to the lower garden she stopped, smiling. The silver moonlight lit up the tombs of her father and mother to make it seem as if made of magic. She crossed her arms, hugging herself as she walked closer, feeling a calming sense of lonesomeness. Lilith stopped before the stairs that would lead to the crypt doors and looked up at the carved likeness of her mother, "Hello, mother...father." She looked to her feet, a toe digging between the dirt of the stones, "I...know it's been a while since I last talked to you, but...I just wanted to let you know you're never far from my mind." A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips, "I wish you could see Logan; you would be so proud. And Walter and Jasper are doing just fine, though they still miss you..." She quickly caught a tear before it rolled down her cheek, "I...I miss you too. I know we didn't exactly spend a lot of time together, but I do remember you; both of you. I just...I just want to make you both proud..."_

_"I'm sure any parent would be proud to have such a daughter as you, Lilith." Before she could react, strong arms wrapped around her, pinning her own against her sides. There was a heavy stench of the wine she had just recently sampled on the breath that was uncomfortably close to her face, "Such a smart, kind, _beautiful_ daughter..."_

_"Percy," she snapped, trying to wiggle free, "let me go!"_

_"What do you mean, let you go? I haven't given you your sixteen kisses yet, princess." He whirled her around, his height dramatically scaling since their last meeting. Dark brown hair seemed almost black in the night, and his hazel eyes were clouded and unfocused. However the look that harbored behind them sent a chill of dread down her spine. His hand reached up from her waist to grab her hair, twisting cruelly, "And this time you don't have any would-be hero to take it from me."_

_She felt his teeth trace the scarf along her neck, then the unwanted sensation traveling along her exposed shoulders. Before he could reach his targeted destination, Lilith slammed her foot down on his own, and as his head went back with a howl she kneed him in the stomach, pushing him away and began to run. Lilith dare not look back, instead focusing all her attention on making it to her room. She'd bar the door until morning if she had to; anything to get rid of the monster that now pursued her._

_She had just reached the top of the stairs of the upper garden when something slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground until she skidded to a halt. Lilith screamed, feeling small pebbles scraping against her skin, the monster crushing the life out of her. He turned her around once more, utterly horrified to find the bodice of her dress had ripped open to reveal the simple strap she wore across her chest. Percy had straddled her waist, grabbing both her arms and holding them above her head, "No, play nice, Lilith-"_

_"Get off of me!" He had tried to kiss her, and she sent spit flying into his eye, receiving a strong blow across her face. She cried out, tasting blood in her mouth. Lilith tried bucking him off of her, but he was to heavy and was only pushing him down further upon herself. She screamed as she felt he teeth bite down on the clasp between her breasts._

_Then she felt nothing, a crack resounding in the garden. Dazed and confused, Lilith rolled to her side to find Percy flailed on his back, cursing. She was about to stand when a cool black rod gently placed intself on her shoulder, small gold highlights glittering in the torchlight. She looked behind her to find a warm smile with poorly hidden rage behind it, "Princess, if you'll excuse me." Long legs stepped over her form, and Reaver stood over the prone form of Percy. The smile soon vanished to a vicious snarl, and he brought his cane down once more as the boy tried to get up, "I believe you'll stay like that for a while, dear boy. It suites animals like you."_

_"I wasn't doing anything to her! She came on to me, the dirty whore-!" The cane smashed against his face, a tooth flying off into the night. _

_Reaver held his weapon before Percy's face, "I'd choose your words carefully, boy, least you learn to chew without those pearly whites of yours."_

_"Lilith?" The door of the servants quarters slammed open, Logan rushing out with Elise on his heels. He stopped by her side, knelt, and wrapped his coat around her, "What in Avo's name happened?" He got a good look at her, and his face darkened, "Who did this to you?"_

_There was another crack from Reaver's cane, and Lilith cried out, "Don't kill him!"_

_Small whimpers could be heard from below Reaver's boot, and he rolled his eyes to meet hers, "My dear, you _do_ realise what this worm tried to do to you? Killing him would be to kind a punishment, if you ask me."_

_"Is that...Percy?" Logan helped Lilith to her feet, handed her to Elise, and marched over to the blooded man who was now on his feet. It did not last long, as Logan's arm reeled back and punched him back to the ground, "How _dare_ you touch my sister!" His boot landed in the boy's ribs, "Death would be to sweet for you, _cretin_."_

_Tears were running down her eyes, and Lilith rushed to grab Logan's arm before he could assail the near unconscious man once more, "Stop it! He isn't worth it!"_

_"Lilith...this cannot go unpunished."_

_"Then punish him, do not kill him." She felt extremely tired, every inch of her body in pain, "Would you risk the wrath of his father? Imprison him, banish him from the castle, but do not kill him. You're better than that, Logan." She tried to smile, but felt as if it came off more pitiful than she would have liked._

_Her brother looked from her to the pest beneath him, then sighed, "As you wish. He will live-!"_

_There was another crack, and Reaver smiled as he flicked blood from his cane, "Yes, he will live. However he won't be conscious, and I believe he will be much in the need of new teeth."_

_"Elise, please find Walter. Tell him there is garbage in need of taking care of." Logan watched as the girl hurried back through their entrance, then returned his attention to his sister, "Will you be alright?"_

_"I'm stronger than I look," she said, winking._

_With a look that very much doubted it, Logan sighed, "Very well, I'll leave you be. However I will send Jasper to your room shortly; you'll want to clean those scrapes soon." He began to follow his blond haired friend when he stopped, turning his head, "Oh, and Reaver."_

_"Yes, Your Majesty?"_

_"You...have my thanks, for rescuing my sister..." They watched as he disappeared into the shadows of the castle, leaving the two alone save for an unconscious Percy._

_Lilith had her back to him, yet he could still see her shaking, "Am I to stay quiet about this little spell of tears as well?" _

_Thin arms wrapped around his waist, and for a moment he knew not how to react. Lilith buried her head into his chest, letting out a shaky sob, "T-thank you...so much...I was...!" Her voice trailed off, and wrapped around him was a shaking, vulnerable thing._

_Heat flushed in his face, and Reaver coughed, "It...was my honor, dear princess. Now," he removed her gently from his sides, smiling as best he could, "let's get you up those stairs." She nodded weakly, and Reaver took her by the arm, continuing silently up to the safe chambers that awaited her._

_

* * *

_

A small whispering, gentle in the distance, growing closer than retreating as if reaching out to touch her then hesitating. Lilith opened her eyes, feeling a strange grittiness to her face, and as she rose she found herself washed ashore on some beach. Her entire body hurt, yet as she tried to lean on her left arm she cried out and fell, curling into a ball until the pain passed. She remembered what had happened in that instant; they were in a battle, she was trying to fix the canons to go off all at once, Reaver lit them for her, she got shot, and then...and then what? Based on the debris scattered along the shore she could make a pretty accurate guess at just what.

Wincing, Lilith stood on shaky feet, scanning the area. If she wasn't looking at an ocean of water, it was sand, however she seemed to be surrounded by quite a large sand-stone cave that blocked her in on all sides. From what she could tell she was alone, save for the scattered bits of wood and metal from Reaver's now destroyed ship. She was about to scan the shoreline for an opening when something caught her eye. A piece of white fabric that lay between two rather large wooden planks. Panic quickly engulfed her, and Lilith sprinted towards the wreckage, ignoring the protests of her aching legs.

There was a very pale arm sticking from the front of a tiny hole near the top of the wooden tent, and Lilith latched on to one of the pieces, kicking it the other way so it wouldn't fall on the person below. Her heart was in her throat; she didn't want to see what lay before her. Slowly, she let her eyes fall upon a very broken looking Reaver, clothes in tatters and a rather big gash above his right eye, a waterfall of blood already drying on his to pale of a face. She nearly threw the other piece behind her, going to her knees and scooping up the man's head, "Reaver! Reaver, please...open your eyes...!" He was cold, colder than he should have been. Tears started falling from her eyes, "No...no, no no...! Reaver..." She held him closer, sobbing, "...don't leave me alone..."

"...Lyanna...?" It was a whisper, a faint breath, but it was something. Lilith didn't exactly make out what he had said, but as she looked down at his face once more she found his brows furrowed, and he was panting heavily. His eyes were moving behind closed eyelids, and she thought he looked almost frightened. Not knowing if she should wake him or not, Lilith looked to the ocean. The tide was growing closer; she would have to move him. Laying him down gently, Lilith stood, went to stand before his head, and gently placed her hands beneath his arms, dragging him as carefully as she could further up the shore. Once satisfied he would be save from the ever advancing water, Lilith removed the Mercenary jacket from her shoulders and crumbled it into a tiny pile, placing it below his head. Then she unraveled the handkerchief she wore around her neck, dipped it in the ocean, and ran back to clean his forehead. She only hoped the salt water would not aggravate the wound further.

Lilith sighed in relief to find the cut was not as grave as she had previously thought, however it would need wrapping. Gently, she wound the fabric around his forehead, tying it in a simple knot. That would have to do for now; and how long "for now" meant scared her to even think about. Deciding that Reaver would be fine on his own for a few seconds, Lilith stood and began to scavenge whatever she could find, not hoping for much but maybe some dry wood to build a fire.

* * *

Something was on his head; that was the first thing he was sure of. Of anything else, it was still an utter mystery, including why nearly every inch of his person was screaming in protest at his sudden consciousness. Eyes opened slowly to the familiar site of a sandy beach, however why this was he knew not, nor why he was outside by a beach in the first place. Reaver turned his head, an utter agony of white hot splinters driving into his neck and down his spine as he did so. A small hiss of pain escaped him, and he cursed under his breath. It had been quite a while since he had felt pain like this.

A small fire burned to his right, and on one of the burning pieces he saw a piece of his signature double "R"s. Remembrance came slowly to him, and upon further inspection of the shore he found more than half of his ship had washed up with him, however much worse for wear than he was. Reaver leaned up on his shoulders, noting the small bootprints in the sand; ah, so the Princess was alright. That, or one of the gentlemen with which he had traveled with had oddly dainty feet; he seriously doubted the latter. How strange the relief he felt at this moment, that the girl was alive. He laughed mockingly, "You're going soft, old boy..."

"Reaver?" A loud clacking followed, and as he turned he saw the princess rushing towards him, her previous burden of gathered wood clattering to the ground. She stopped a few feet from him, knelt, and put a hand on his chest, "You shouldn't try to get up; lay back down."

At any other time he would have removed her hand and stood anyway, however in his weakened condition he allowed himself to be guided back to the ground. As his head came to where he thought would be the ground, he was surprised to find it land on something soft. The simple shirt the Princess wore answered his question, as did the lack of her scarf as he lifted a hand to his head, "Your handy-work, I presume?"

She frowned, worry in her eyes, "You were bleeding badly; it was the only thing I had, save ripping a piece of my clothes."

Reaver smiled, "Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"You're okay..." Her voice was cracking, and she hung her head between slumped shoulders, "I was so...I thought..."

Reaver watched as tiny liquid pearls fell were drank in by the sand. Where had he seen this scene before? The memory came unbidden to his mind, that of a bandit running from their home, his pursuit, their ambush by the docks, they got away, then she appeared, heavy with child and tears in her eyes...

"Stop. Please," He had not meant to snap, and his voice softened slightly, "I assure you I am quite fine, my dear. However if I do recall correctly were you not the one with a shot through the arm?"

Her head lifted, eyes still shimmering with tears unfallen, "Oh! Well, I suppose what little Hero's Blood I have must have fixed me up pretty fast." She leaned up, flexed her left arm and winked at him, "See? Doesn't even hurt anymore!"

He laughed, the effort hurting his chest, "Well, please try not to make it a habit. I'd rather not have your mother's ghost haunting me, thank you."

Lilith changed to a more relaxed position, frowning, "My mother wouldn't have been foolish enough to take her eye off the enemy."

"Believe me, I ended up saving your mother from quite a few mistakes."

"You say that with such warm reminiscence," Lilith laughed. For a while they were quiet, both looking up at the stars that glittered above them. The tide had indeed come up higher, and Reaver was surprised to see that Lilith had taken that into account. He watched the girl for a time, wondering what it was she was thinking. It was strange to see shoulder-length hair flowing freely, even stranger to see it made her look that much older. No, not older, but more mature. A woman.

She had grown into a woman.

Reaver tore his eyes from her as she began to look at him, her worry once again in her voice, "Do you think Ben and Walter are alright?"

He closed his eyes, waving a hand in the air, "Dear Lilith, your Walter could survive being thrown from a mountain while fighting three bears at the same time, or so I would assume. As for Mr. Finn, well, I've heard he's quite the swimmer, so I am almost positive they made it out alive."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm never wrong."

She laughed weakly, "I wish I had your confidence..." The silence grew between them once more, only this time there was a strange look on her face. He was about to ask her what was on her mind, when she said, "This is the third time you've saved me."

"Is it? I could have sworn I had done it at least five times by now."

"I'm serious, Reaver..." There was a small line of aggravation between well sculpted eyebrows, "Only this time...I almost got you killed."

He laughed again, this time more confidently, "Dear, dear Lilith, you should know by now it will take far more than a mere explosion to end my life."

"I had a dream, before I woke on the shore," she turned her head, hiding her face from him, "it was about the time you saved me from Percy. Do you remember that?"

"I remember the severe want to end his life, yes. I believe you made me promise to forget the rest."

She sighed, a hand going to her face, "I hated when you saw me crying. It seemed like you were always the one who did. But, well, I guess my point was, after that day, I wanted to become stronger. Not just emotionally, but physically. I told myself I couldn't keep relying on you, that you were not a safety net..." She drew tiny circles in the sand, face still hidden from view, "When I found out I was a Hero, I didn't believe it. It took me a long time to accept it, actually. Then when I was finally confident in my abilities...this happens..."

"You can't predict the future, Lilith." The seriousness of his voice surprised her, and as she turned her gaze once more upon him she found his eyes had grown distant. There was something there, regret? Sadness? Anger? She couldn't say, his voice hollow as he said, "Take it from an old man...who had made a lifetime of mistakes." He grew silent, eyes growing ever more distant.

"Reaver...?"

His eyes grew wider, as if he had forgotten she were there. Then his eyes met hers, and he smiled, "A tale for another time, my dear. For now, I believe we should rest."

"Yeah, you're right," she stood once more, only this time she went to pick up her abandoned wood and fed it to a dimming fire. The flames ate it with a loud hiss, bits and pieces crackling and popping as she went to lay on the oposite side of camp. Her head resting lightly on her arm, Lilith laughed, "I'm glad I left Fandral with Page."

"Yes, what a lucky hound he is." He could already feel his eyes growing heavier, and he only hoped his pained and exhausted body would relieve him of the nightmares that plagued him. Of course, they never did.

* * *

**Me: I cleaned my room today! You can see the floor and everything!**

**Reaver: I wonder why you would clean your room instead of write or draw things involving me?**

**Me: Consider it fuel to my creative fires.  
**

**Reaver: I thought I was your fuel to your creative fires?**

**Me: ...I'm to tired for this game.**

**Reaver: I never grow tired of a game. **

**Me: I'M GOING TO BED! GOOD NIGHT!  
**


	7. Something Wicked this Way Comes

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Six: Something Wicked this Way Comes**

**Uh, I'm starting to see things. Is that bad? Oh well! Sorry for the long wait; I've been playing around with my new artpad, lol...that's no excuse, I know, and I'm really sorry -_-...Hopefully you guys are still reading this, and again SORRY SORRY SORRY SOOOOOOORRY ;-;!**

**

* * *

**

The world was nothing but a golden light when Lilith awoke that morning, the brilliance of it stinging her eyes. She stood quietly, trying not to wake Reaver, and began to walk to the shoreline. A smile came to her face as she took in the sight of crystalline blue waters that gently ebbed along the sand, the gentle breathing of the world all around her. Lilith shot a quick glance behind her, decided Reaver would be asleep for at least a little while longer, and began taking off her boots, rolling her highwayman's jeans up as far as they would go. It was a truly delicious feeling; the wet sand between her toes, the soft kiss of the ocean as it washed over her feet; Lilith couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a beach. She closed her eyes and sighed, for the moment forgetting the predicament they were currently in.

This wasn't going to be easy, in fact, it looked damn near impossible. She had no idea where they had washed ashore, nor if there would be any source of fresh water nearby, or even food. Lilith supposed they would have to venture into the cave to find their escape, and even that looked questionable. Crossing her arms, Lilith stared out to the ocean, "I guess there's no use in worrying over it..."

"That's the spirit!"

Lilith turned, almost tripping herself from being stuck in the sand. She blushed wildly, and she tried to hide it behind loose hair, "R-Reaver! I was just-"

"Enjoying the view? I daresay I quite agree with you," he came to stand beside her, letting the water lap against his boots, "it is magnificent." She noted that same look of longing in his eyes, yet this time his face held a peculiar smile. She watched him as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth, "I have missed this smell."

"It must have been amazing, being able to go out to sea whenever you wished." Lilith could remember playing in the garden fountains as if they were her own distant shores; Logan was always the town she pillaged. She smiled sweetly, digging her toes further into the sand, "Mother used to tell me about sailing. And Logan would always bring me home tiny bottles of shells with sand from beaches he'd visited. When I was little, I used to wish I were a pirate..." She laughed shyly, playing with her thumbs.

Reaver looked her up and down with a critical eye, "I'm not sure, dear Princess. You don't seem the type that would take to a life at sea."

"Oh? And why not?" She huffed, crossing her arms.

He reached out and grabbed one of her hands, flipping it over, "For one, your hands are far to soft. You'd burn them on a rope or something, get frustrated, and quit."

"I would not!"

"And I highly doubt you'd listen to orders," he brought her fingers to his lips, grinning, "though I'm sure I could more than convince you to obey."

The fire that appeared in her cheeks almost burned her eyes, and she quickly pulled her hand from his, "Y-you're only joking with me, Reaver. Besides, we need to start thinking of how to get out of here."

"I am not a joking man, my dear, however if you wish to change the subject then by all means." Reaver laughed as he watched her scurry to her boots, trying desperately to kick the remaining sand from her toes.

Once she finished, Lilith stood straight and looked behind her, staring into the darkness of the cave, "I think we're surrounded on all sides by this...thing. I thought about swimming around it, but I'm not sure how far it stretches."

Reaver walked past her, running a hand through unkempt black hair, "Worry not, one cave is much like the other. I assume you're rather use to cave crawling, are you not?"

"If you're referring to the Hobbe incident that was _not_ my fault!"

"No, of course not. In fact I should thank you; those dreadful little creatures had been quite the nuisance to my excavation teams." He stopped at the lip of the cave and whistled, the sound echoing all around them.

The place was utterly huge. Large stalactites and stalagmites made the opening look like a giant monster ready to devour them in one bite. A pool of water as large as Bower Lake rested before them, the cave going deeper to the left of it. Bats flew above their heads, crying out at the unwanted intruders, the light slowly diming as they went further and further into the cave. Sand quickly gave way to stone, and even curiouser, stone gave way to elaborate tiles. Before Lilith knew it there were standing at the top of a grand staircase, below them a strange courtyard with a gaping hole at its center, a strange purple aura covering it like a lid. Something was...wrong about this place, and as she looked to Reaver she could tell he was thinking much the same. Tugging on the end of a ripped sleeve, Lilith asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"I think...we have no choice. I do not like it, however I see little we can do about it." Long legs began to descend the stairs, Lilith close behind him. Strange carvings decorated the wall to their left, and she could have sworn half of them were claw marks. From what, she did not know, and truthfully she did not want to know. Every fiber of her being was telling her to run, this was not safe, something bad was going to happen. As if on que Reaver laughed, walked ahead of her, and knelt by a pile of bones, "Well now, do you think these fellows ended up this way because of _that_?" He tilted his head behind him, indicating the purple aura.

Lilith shivered, "I hope not..." To the other side was another group of bones, and she moved to examine them more closely. Nothing remained but a note as dry and dusty as the bones it lay against. Her face grew grim as she scanned over the note's contents, and as she stood she asked, "Do you still have your pistol?"

There was a metallic clinking sound that echoed in the chamber, and she rolled her eyes as he said, "Would I be Reaver if I didn't?"

She then noticed the small red book in his hand. She pointed at it with a raised eyebrow, "Did you find something?"

He frowned, looking down at the old pages, "I believe so, however..." He walked to the ledge of what appeared to be another staircase, muttering something under his breath. Then the room exploded into a bright, reddish light, and Lilith covered her eyes with her arm. After a moment she heard the book slam shut, her eyes returning to a very smug looking Reaver, "Well well! I do so enjoy learning new tricks."

"How...?" Lilith joined him, looking down into the chasm that gaped before her, "How did you do that."

He shrugged, though still looking extremely pleased with himself, "Perhaps I'll tell you someday. Now, shall we?" He stepped onto the first stair, eyes almost level with her's, a hand held out to her.

Lilith looked down once more, frowned, then grabbed his hand. She kept repeating in her head that nothing would go wrong. Everything was fine.

Oh how wrong she was.

"It's so cold down here," Lilith shivered, removing her hand from Reaver's to hold her arms. A sound like fire whipped over their heads, and as the two looked up they found their purple barrier had returned, sealing them in. The hair was standing on the back of her neck, "Did you do that?"

"No," Reaver drew his pistol, grabbing her wrist, "and I'd rather not be here to find out what did."

They continued on in silence, the walls seeming to close in around them. Lilith had the distinct feeling they were being watched, and every now and then her head would scan either side to find those prying eyes. Never in her life had she missed the weight of her sword so much; she damned herself for not trying to find it. Sand seemed to be swept purposefully to the corners, and she could have sworn tiny little footprints were moving from one hill to the other. She rubbed her eyes, only to find that upon her second look they were gone. The tunnel was starting to grow dark, almost suffocatingly so, and if it were not for Reaver's white close she would have been unable to see him. She squeezed his hand, whispering, "Hang on, switch hands with me."

"As you wish."

She waited a moment until she was sure he was clear, then lit up her fire gauntlet. The fire was an utter blessing in this darkness, and she started to feel a bit better. Smiling, she looked up to him and smiled, "There, that's better!"

"How long can you keep that up?" Reaver asked, his eyes never leaving the front of them.

"At least an hour. Should I walk behind you?"

"No, to my side. Keep on your guard," he began to walk forward, "there's something...following us."

She began to walk faster, heart racing a bit, "Something? Like, what something?"

"If I knew that, dear Lilith, I would tell you. Now, with all due respect please be quiet."

"Right."

"Sh!"

"Sorry!" She followed him down the corridor, pillars of old sandstone surrounding them on either side. Strange tapestries hung on the walls between them, the fabric seeming older than she was. Then she realized they were walking over a bridge, and as she looked over the ledge she found there was no bottom. They continued in silence for a few more minutes until her foot struck something, and she screamed. Reaver jumped slightly, looked ahead of them, and laughed. He disappeared beyond the light of her magic for a while, making her even more terrified, until he came back with that which had assailed her foot.

Twirling the torch in his hand, Reaver smirked, "I believe this answers our little fatigue problem."

Lilith snatched it from his hand, to ashamed to look him in the eyes. It lit at the slightest touch of her blaze, "There. We have fire. Now come on." She marched ahead of him, ignoring the laugh that echoed in the empty halls.

He caught up quickly, still smiling, "Be sure to watch your step. I'd hate to have to tell Walter you were felled by a most insidious twig." She would have punched him if she didn't expect to be shot afterwards.

They continued on in silence until they finally caught a glimpse of light, both quickening their steps to reach it. The opening was a rather large room that seemed to be in shambles, the only concevible exit on the other side blocked by another of those strange purple auras. Lilith chewed the bottom of her lip, thinking. Her eye trailed to the right, following a broken down bridge that led to the other side of the chamber. She held the torch out to Reaver, "Here, take this. I'll be back in a moment."

His eyes were on her back as she leapt down from her previous platform, ran along the side of the wall, and came to a stop on the opposite end, standing before a lever. It was rather rusty, cobwebs decorating the small cogs by the trigger, but it seemed it would move. She was about to pull it down when a hand gripped hers, and before she could scream her mind registered it as Reaver's, "No need for such things, my dear. I'd rather we make our prescence that of a secretive nature." His eyes left hers and went to the purple light that once again barred their path. He returned the torch to her, then began to ascend the staircase, all the while mumbling once more under his breath.

The door vanished this time without a blinding death knoll, and Lilith caught up quickly with Reaver, slowing when she thought the torch would flicker out. She made it just before the aura closed them off again, and she frowned, "I don't like this..."

"Then stay close," Reaver snapped, retaking her hand. They walked a little further when suddenly all around them grew dark. His pistol was pointed before them, and fear rose in Lilith's throat.

Then the voice sounded.

Cold and heartless, it echoed through their very soul, _The light you bring will die. The light inside you will die. All that you are, will die._

They both stopped, and Lilith asked, "Who's there? Enough of these games!"

"I don't think they're playing games, my dear," the pistol cocked, and with the sound millions of red eyes appeared before them.

A laugh, full of bitterness and hatred, then the words _The children are here to play..._

The red lights grew closer, and as they stepped in the firelight they took the shape of gruesome shadows, armed with dark blades that cut the very air. A curse flew from Reaver's mouth, and there was something along the lines of fear and rage in his eyes. Bullets filled the air, the creatures disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Lilith soon joined him, releasing an area spell of lightening while trying to keep the torch lit. The things just kept coming; they would knock down ten, and two more would appear where they once stood. Reaver had just shot through the heads of four with a single bullet when he shouted, "Do not let them touch you!"

_Be corrosive. Be pernicious. Be diseased. Be devoured._

A shadow monster came up from behind Lilith's line of sight, a shudder running up her spine as it howled in an unearthly voice. She turned in time to block a blow with her gauntlet, sending the creature back against the wall. Something was burning her arm, and when she looked down a strange black liquid began to form around her wrist. She screamed, releasing the most powerful spell she could conjure. A dark mist surrounded them, and in the darkness the voice taunted, _You're tainted. The stain will never wash out. The sun shall never shine upon you again. Tainted, broken little toys._..

Lilith dropped to the ground, exhausted. She was vaguely aware of someone's hands on her shoulders, and when she looked up to see who it was she frowned, "What...what was that?"

"Let me see your arm." She didn't have time to argue, instead he grabbed her wrist and lifted it to his face. Reaver cursed explosively, his thumb burning the area it touched, "Damn it...damn it...!"

She was starting to get worried, "Reaver...?"

"Can you stand?" He was beginning to scare her, the usual jovial tones of his voice now all but gone.

"I...I think so..." She let him pull her up, feeling slightly woozy but still able to continue. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but something told her he saw right through her, "Well then, shall we?"

He kept hold of her hand and began to lead her forward, "Stay close, and make sure that fire does _not_ go out." Before them lay another flight of stairs; he led her up step by step, looking out the corner of his eye every now and then. Once they reached the top they met a strange, triangle arch with old runes carved all around their surface, and as they passed down the hall Lilith watched unlit candles lit with unglowing flames. Twice she thought they would have to fight those shadow creatures again, though Reaver would squeeze her hand and assure her they were only bats. They began to descend a flight of stairs at the end of a hall, coming to another great room smothered in darkness.

The railings were ancient, looking as though a single touch would crumble them into dust. The same pattern she had seen at the entrance to this place now lined the walkway, strange black beetles scurring out from beneath large pedestals which held strange, birdlike statues. She stopped then, examining one closer, "Reaver...don't you...?"

"Own one of those? Yes," she smiled at the return of his usual smug tones, "though I admit I had not dreamed it to come from such a place as this." He led her down another flight of stairs, the sound of his voice welcome in this hateful silence, "You remember those creatures you fought during my little party, yes? The ones who played in the sand?"

"Your Sand Furies?"

"Yes, I obtained them in much the same place. So, dear Princess, how are you liking Aurora?"

"I'm sure I'll like it much better when I can see my hand in front of my face."

"Indeed, 'tis truly a most horrific crime to deny one's self of such indescribable beauty."

She laughed, "I've never known a man to refer to himself as 'beautiful'."

"Hm, I suppose so. However I was referring to you, my dear." He laughed as she stumbled slightly, though kept the witty retort that would all but make her fall to himself. It would be rather bothersome to loose the torch now.

They continued on in uneasy silence, Lilith's eye wondering to a new set of statues. These were human in shape, though they sported giant metal wings that seemed to be made of gold. Each one was armed with a rather impressive hammer, the faces behind golden cowls both sinister and uninviting. If ever there was a picture of a dark angel, Lilith thought this must be it. The faces, though eyeless, felt as though they followed her where ever she walked, and soon she had to force herself to look away. The hall stretched a bit further until an ascending stair came before them, and with it the familiar whistling of a breeze.

Lilith's heart almost stopped beating with joy, and with fear, as she watched her tiny torch flicker in the wind. Smiling hopefully, Lilith asked, "Do you feel that? A cold breeze, just ahead."

His voice, though still light, masked apprehension, "I would not trust it, if I were you." There was a strange crackling noise that echoed all around them, and Reaver tugged on her hand to stop her from running ahead, "Case in point, my dear."

"Right. Caution. Got it." Her hand was trembling, and she prayed Reaver could not tell, however once they reached the top of the stairs and a huge gust of wind blew out their light, she screamed.

It was cold. Extremely cold. To cold for a desert. They were surrounding her, she was going to die here, and all because the bloody torch went out with a small breeze. There was another growl. In front of her? Behind her? It was all around her. She could feel tears in her eyes, hear the sound of a gun cocking, felt Reaver's hand leave her's, and as she lit up the room another scream tore from her lips.

A demon with three faces stood before her, glowering. Its eyes were darker than night, the hatred of everything she stood for clear as crystal in their depths. The faces were white as bone, claw like hands reaching out to her. Then something white stood before her, and his gun fired, and the monster was gone. No words were shared between them, just a firm grip on her fireless hand and a forceful tug towards a doorway. She was loosing her mind, nothing awaiting her but this dark oblivion. Her arm burned her fiercely, and as her eyes wondered around the dark corners of the room she began to mumble, "We're never getting out...its not going to stop...it wants us dead..."

"They will not take anything more from me..." The snarl was quiet, yet full of pain and fury. Reaver's eyes never met hers, and as the voice called out to them once more he shoved her against a wall, setting himself before her.

_We are coming. We will devour your kingdom. There will be no bargains, there will only be darkness. The children command it!_

Swarms of shadow creatures came out of nowhere, surrounding them. Lilith bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood, in an attempt to awaken herself from her frightened stupor. It did enough to help unleash an area lightening spell, some of the electricity licking the bullets of Reaver's pistol, turning them into tiny lightening storms of their own. They stayed right at the edge of her blaze, and she watched as the fire dimmed with each spell she unleashed. Sweat beaded her forehead, despite the cold, and the world seemed to be dimming slowly. She was about to cast one more large spell when Reaver put his arm before her, shouting, "Save it for the one we need most!" Then with a flourish his gun was at his hip, and as he turned he smacked the hammer of the pistol, sending a hail of bullets into the shadows so quickly Lilith lost count. She noticed he too had hair sticking to his forehead, a wild look in deep brown eyes.

The sickening cackle returned, mocking, _It doesn't matter if you leave. We are inside you. Your heat, your lungs, your thoughts will be blackened...You will turn to moss, and dust, and we will take the darkness into the world..._

Her head began to throb, and for a moment she could hardly stand, _Did the blind seer not tell you about us? Did she not warn you?_ The creature's laughter echoed within her mind, sending daggers through her skull. Lilith opened her eyes through tears, and saw the creature. Reaver was already ahead of her, and sent his last shell into the skull of the beast.

"Damn it!" Steaming shells clicked to the ground, and in a flurry of movement the empty canisters were filled once more. In the flickering light his face grew to something horrifying; almost mad. Lilith backed away from him, hitting the wall with a small whimper. Reaver's eyes rounded on her, and for a moment it seemed he knew not who she was. The sadness and guilt that contorted his face was utterly heartbreaking, yet only lasted for a moment. He sighed deeply, voice quivering, and ran a hand through his hair. Once his eyes returned to her's they were smiling again, "I...apologize, Princess. I...I recalled something rather unpleasant."

She swallowed, removing her back from the wall, "Come on, let's go before they come back." She returned her hand to his, though this time neither one led the way, instead both keeping an eye on either side of their narrow walkway. Strange pillars of black ooze rose up from the ground around them, and she noted Reaver quickening his pace. Light from another purple aura shown through a door to their right, though instead of opening this one Reaver led her further to the left, once again ascending stairs.

Looking ahead she could faintly make out a small light, then the smell of fresh air. Reaver slowed as well, and she asked, "I think...I think we truly are close to an exit."

He frowned, for the first time seeming unsure, "I don't want to hope..."

She led the way, smiling, "It's gone. You shot him, remember?"

"My dear, if there is one thing I am absolutely sure of, it is that nightmares are rarely ever truly gone." They reached a small opening to their left, small beads of sunlight pouring in from the ceiling. They continued down that path until the reached a rather indimidating drop, "What do you think?"

"I think-Look out!"

Before he knew what was happening Reaver found himself sailing through the air, watching as a dark cloud consumed the girl that had just saved his life. He hand was still outstretched towards him, and as he looked into her frightened eyes he saw the face of a woman from his nightmares. He might have screamed, he might have not, for the blow that sent him into unconsciousness soon muffled out all sound.

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**Me: DON'T say it. I left on another cliff-hanger...  
**

**Reaver: I do not think I need remind you of just how poorly a writer you are, dear.**

**Me: You know what, I think I'll kill you in the next chapter.**

**Reaver: As you wish, I just hope you are prepared to deal with the dire consequences.**

**Me: You can't shoot me if you're dead.**

**Reaver: No, but my fans can~**

**Me:...I hate you.**

**Reaver: I know, my dear. I love you too. Now then, the reason why she did such a deplorable thing is that she feared, once again, that a chapter was running to long. Yet here we are, rambling about nothing. Why, it reminds me of the time-**

**Me: Bed. Time for bed. Now. Good night.  
**


	8. No Quarter

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Seven: No Quarter**

**Hm, this chapter is shorter than I thought it would be. Probably because I kept going back and changing things. Hopefully I changed all the right things, lol. Thank you all for the reviews; I really needed some encouragement these past two days. Um, well, I hope you guys like this chapter; let me know if I messed it up. I keep second guessing myself about Reaver; such a difficult man! Anyway, enjoy and review...if you want to, lol.**

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Cold. So cold she burned. Lilith tried to open her eyes, but it seemed more light was held behind closed lids than what surrounded her now. She could hear that creature talking, laughing all around her. She tried to cover her ears, but dark tendrils grabbed at her wrists and held them to her side. Soon the same dark ooze snaked up her legs, around her chest, and up her neck. She tried to use her Will, but the darkness zapped every ounce of her strength.

_Do you feel the darkness swarming around you? Do you feel it creep its tortuous path through your mouth, through your eyes, while it eats away inside you? How does it feel?_

She could feel the darkness creeping into her pours, lining itself under her skin, feeling as though it would rip it clear from her muscle. Black fingers gripped at the corners of her lips, and she could feel them trying to pry open her eyes. Then unimaginable pain shot up her spine, and she did scream, and as she screamed the darkness ran down her throat and into her eyes.

Then she knew nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing. She became nothing...

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His head ached terribly, and as he grazed the back of his skull, his fingers came back stained with blood. It was still wet; he had not been out for long. Curses flew wildly from him as Reaver rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the sand that contaminated them. He had no choice but to remove the brown lenses he fashioned for his "new look", the tiny spheres already torn from whatever trauma they had endured. Blinking, Reaver stood, steadying himself against a sandstone wall. As he looked at the cavern now he growled in frustration; this was no exit. A trap had been laid, and he fell for it. Taking a small ramp Reaver continued deeper into this hellish temple, feeling sorry for whatever creature dared stand in his path.

She had saved him. That damned girl had saved him! Reaver walked over a small river of that strange black ooze, remembering it from some hazy dream, then drew his pistol and disposed of four shadow creatures that dare materialize in his presence. He was in no mood for their games. Her face still haunted him, the fear in her eye, that small glint of worry, and as he fell he saw what looked like a small smile of relief. If those damn creatures didn't kill her he would; not even her mother was that stupid.

_Does this not remind you of something? It is ever so familiar..._

"Quiet!" He was running, but not through fields this time, and not in blind panic. He would not do such things. He would take back that which was his. They would not take this from him. He watched as the cave darkened around him, so like that horrid night, though this time the shadows faced not a small, breakable boy, but one born from their very hand. They would face Reaver. He rounded another corner, gun at the ready, and came to another hallway. Much like all the others, this one decorated itself with broken columns and sand, relics from a time long past. This was an evil even older than he, something he would have marveled at were he not so intent on destroying it. He stopped for a moment as a loud shriek shot through the hall, and Reaver began to sprint; this time he would answer that scream, and protect that which belonged to him.

The room was lined with those strange angel statues, yet that did not nearly interest him as much as what awaited him near the end of the grand hall. In the strange purple light he saw Lilith, her body consumed by that dark liquid. Dark tears fell from her eyes, and the liquid seemed to be forcing itself down her throat. The sounds of drowning hit him like a blow to the stomach, and Reaver tried to run to her side when something grabbed his foot. He fell, pistol flying from his hand and out of his reach. He could hear the thing laughing at him, feel their cold hands crawling up his skin.

_Give up, is that so hard? Close your eyes...join us..._

With a growl he tore his foot away, slamming it into the face of a shadow. Now free, he crawled forward until he could crouch, then bolted to his pistol, retrieving it in time to send a bullet into the skull of a second assailant.. He was close to her now, almost an arms length away, when he heard the familiar sound of gears coming to life. Reaver ducked and rolled to the left, narrowly dodging a blade that was aimed for his chest. Before him stood one of the very statues he owned, though this one was very much more alive. The golden armor shone hauntingly in the strange purple light, silver blades reflecting the red eyes of the gathering shadow creatures. Then a loud crack sounded behind him, and before Reaver could dodge a blade sank into his left arm. Reaver cried out, and with a snarl he lifted his pistol and shot the machine at its joints, watching as it fell in shambles.

He had enough time to dodge another blow form the first machine, though it landed him in the center of a horde of shadow creatures. They convulsed on him, his body feeling as though he were sinking in cold water. The voice with no face spoke once more, and the machine ceased its attack, _Why do you fight us? We created you, we birthed you, we are the reason you live..._

Red eyes met his, a cold hand wrapping tightly around his throat, _You may yet go free...Give us the girl...we do not wish to kill her...just give us the girl, and you may leave..._

Reaver tore his arm from within the dark cocoon, and with each bullet he fired he screamed, "You! Will! Not! Take! Anything! More!" The area around him quickly disapated of life, giving him time to reload his pistol. The machine that had first tried to take his life stood before him, and he snarled as he fired two more bullets, "From! Me!" The machine fell in a heap of golden cogs and plates, the blades sliding across the floor with ear shattering squeals. As his eyes returned to the alter where Lilith was held, his eyes went wide as one of the angel statues began to move.

_The dark guardian shall come to protect us..._

The dark angel lifted its hammer, releasing black ooze into the ground. Reaver jumped back, avoiding conjured bats that had formed where he once stood. The creature's footsteps echoed throughout the hall, making his teeth chatter. The bullets Reaver fired only bounced off the thing, and he cursed as it brought down its hammer, lightening cracking the ground. he sidestepped just a second to late, and screamed as electricity danced up his arm, paralyzing him. The statue was coming closer; so this was how the great Reaver would end? In some dark pit in a distant land in a place that no sane person would ever think to look for him. The thing was before him now, and Reaver stole one last glance at his captive princess before closing his eyes, "I'm sorry..."

A light, blinding but warming at the same time, engulfed him. He was shocked, if anything he thought death would be nothing but a dark, cold place. Hell seemed just the place for people like him. Though the scream that followed certainly did not belong in any version of heaven he had heard of, and as he opened his eyes he found that he was still very much alive, though the sight before him was unearthly. Lilith stood at the alter still, yet she was consumed by an angelic white light. Wings that spanned greater than her body sprouted from her back, blue Will lines coursing through the pristine white feathers. The darkness that had seemed so sure of consuming them was now all but gone, the dark angel no match for the glory that stood before it. Here eyes were open now, though no iris could be seen past the glowing white light that consumed them. Reaver stood, for all the world awestruck, until the light faded, and the wings disappeared with a burst of shining feathers.

The girl looked at him, confused, dark stains still defiling her beautiful face, and she fell to her knees. Reaver ran to her, catching her limp body before it hit the cruel stone beneath. He cradled her head in his right arm, "Lilith? Lilith? Open your eyes!" He lifted his left arm to brush away a lock of stray hair, ignoring the pain, "Lilith-!"

"I can't see..." Her voice was hoarse, and weak, but the relief that washed through him was indescribable.

Reaver traced the dark lines that marred her eyes, "It will pass-?" The sound of crumbling startled him, and for a moment he suspected the whole hall would cave in on top of them. Then he felt a warm, gentle breeze on his face, followed by a small patch of light. Something told him this ordeal was finally over. Looking back at the girl in his arm, he asked, "Do you remember how I used to carry you? When you were little?" Lilith nodded, wrapping weak arms around his neck. Reaver turned, and on shaky legs lifted her body from the ground, doing his best to hold her up with one arm. The girl was incredibly weak, and he wondered how long she could remain perched on his back. As quickly as he could, Reaver headed towards the light, not liking how weakly her chest rose and fell on his back.

The sun washed over them like the arms of a loving parent, its light so welcome Reaver did nothing to try and shield his eyes. The heat of the desert was so great that he could see it shimmering in the distance, yet for the moment anything was more welcome than the damning cold of that cave. Lilith tried to lift her head, only to have it fall limply back to his neck. Her eyelashes tickled his neck as she opened her eyes, "Are we...are we outside now...?"

"Yes, we're free." He continued forward, climbing sand covered stairs until coming upon a small plateau. His heart sank at the sight that awaited him. For miles stretched an unforgiving desert, dunes as high as mountains and valleys of jagged rocks. Off in the distance was a strange statue, yet he knew not if it would lead to civilization, or damnation. He knew for a fact that another encounter with that monster would mean the end of them both. Reaver shook his head, sighed deeply, and tossed Lilith up farther on his back, taking the stairs to his left.

He reached another platform, though this time there were no stairs or other floors to descend, just a sheer drop. Reaver cursed once more, though there was not strength behind it. Walking towards the edge, he laughed weakly, "Hold on tight."

"What...!" He jumped, landing on his feet but his legs bucked beneath him. Hot sand caked on the wound on his arm, and he hissed through clenched teeth. Lilith lay next to him like a crumpled rag doll, but he saw she was still breathing. With a groan Reaver used his forehead to push up from the sand, slowing climbing to his feet. As he reached down to pick Lilith back up her hand found his wrist, and she said, "Leave me..."

He put her hand away, slowly digging his arms beneath her and lifting her from the sand. She tried to struggle, for the first time clear tears washing away the dark stains left behind, "Damn it, Reaver...listen to me...!"

"You'll have to forgive me, my dear, for I am not in a listening mood."

"We won't make it...not together..."

"What ever happened to your optimism, dear?" He stumbled, catching himself quickly. The sun was unrelenting, the world soon blurring into one golden color. Looking back he was surprised to see how far he'd traveled from their previous perch, watching the wind blow any evidence that they had stood there away.

"Reaver...?" She was shaking in his arms; curious considering how warm it was. Or was it? Looking around he noticed a considerable change in climate, the world growing much darker with a strange, almost stagnant scent to the air. The desert where they once stood disappeared behind a veil of fog, and he could have sworn the once golden dunes now turned to moss covered rocks. Reaver shook his head, blaming the hallucinations on the heat, but no amount of shaking could dismiss the feeling of water seeping into his boots, nor the light splash that sounded as he stepped forward.

Reaver stopped, his mouth agape. He stood knee deep in the marshes of his nightmares, though this time he was not alone. Faces from his past watched him from within the rocks, the water, the fog, their eyes full of hatred and fear. Reaver marched on, refusing to acknowledge that which lay before him; this was a trick. Damn this desert and that creature! It would not get to him, he was not weak. He was not breakable. He was Reaver...

_Do you still wish to be called that...?_

A voice from an angel, one long since gone, graced his ears and stopped his heart. He lifted his eyes to find her's, mere inches from his face. She still wore that sweet smile, though her skin was white as snow, and just as cold. He almost fell to his knees, but then he felt something gripping his arm, and as he looked down he saw Lilith, and remembered where he was. As if reading his mind, the angel before him swept away, disinigrating into the mist, _Do you no longer love me, dear Adrian?_

"You are _not_-!"

White arms wrapped around his neck, and he felt her lips trace his ear, "Are you so sure? You, who know not even who you are?"

"Get away from me, beast!" Cold hands scratched across his face, a cold laugh echoing through the air. Reaver continued on, feeling his strength waning. The girl in his arms grew heavier and heavier with each step, and soon he was unable to catch his breath.

The air was an indescribable miasma that gripped at his throat and burned his eyes. Screams followed where ever he walked, the mist of the marsh giving way to the smoke of burning buildings, embers floating in the air. His eyes were watching the shadows that flew past, not his feet, and a stone sent him sprawling, the Princess rolling ahead of him. Reaver cursed, feeling blood flowing in his mouth. He touched a finger to his lip, finding a rather big split down the middle. He watched as Lilith seemed to push herself up from the ground, her movements reminding him of a puppet master standing his puppet on end. Then his breath hitched in his throat, almost choking himself on his own blood.

The scene changed once more, though he knew it well. He lay before his house, the blood of his child running down the brick wall. However, as his eyes went to the scene that would have been his Lyanna, now Lilith stood, her eyes closed and for all the world oblivious of what was happening. Reaver got to his knees, watching as if the world had slowed to a halt as the shadow creatures brought back bladed arms, ready to pierce the heart of the girl who knew not of this time. His mind raced, a scream tore from his lips, and he leapt as the blade came sailing down towards its target.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing her to the ground. Though when they hit it he found that it had once again turned to sand, the cold damp air replaced by intense heat, so dry he felt his skin had turned to paper. Reaver pushed up on his arm, looking down at the soft face below him. Her eyes were open, sparkling with tears. He tried to look away, but a small hand touched his cheek, and Lilith guided his eyes back to her's. She looked on the brink of tears, but instead of asking what he expected of her, she simply smiled and said, "You're eyes are green."

"I...yes..." He laughed, dropping to his side, "Yes they are..."

Her hand never left his face, and he reached his left hand to cover her own. It was so small, and he closed his eyes as he realized he had failed to save it. He heard her take in a sharp breath, "Your arm...!"

"...Lilith, please...a small cut...is...is the least...of our worries."

She laughed weakly, "What...what happened to your...optimism?" His eyes shot open, and he found her smiling at him. How she looked so like her mother. Yet, unlike her mother, she still held that glimmer of hope, of trust. Such an innocent little creature, and yet here she was laying next to a monster, about to die in some god forsaken desert away from all and everything she knew.

Anger fueled him, the impossibility of the situation to ridiculous to be real. Reaver removed her hand, standing once more on his good arm. He barely heard her protest, something about how he should lay back down, to rest, but he refused to hear it. Why would one such as Reaver need rest? He forced his right leg under his stomach, pushing off lightly. He was standing, wobbling but standing, and that was only the beginning. He looked down at the Princess who lay in the sand, her eyes wide with something bordering amazement and worry, "Do you remember how I used to carry you, when you were little?"

She frowned, blowing a strand of stray hair from her face, "If you think you're carrying me...me again, you're...wrong...!" She tried to copy his movements, but failed several times until he held out his hand to her. She blushed, though accepted the help, and he slowly brought her to her feet. She was standing for maybe five seconds before her legs went out from under her, and she fell into his chest. He caught her as best he could, wrapping his right arm around her back, holding her steady. Her head peered up at him, and for what seemed an eternity their eyes locked.

Reaver smiled down at her, not remembering the last time he had given anyone the truly genuine article, "Come on, dear Lilith. Your subjects await." He let her hold onto his arm, and together the walked across the scorching sand, loosing track of all time.

It seemed like they had been walking for days, yet the sun was only now beginning to set. The world had grown mercifully cooler, yet that did not change the fact that they were still miles from anywhere. Once Reaver had thought he'd seen torches in the distance, but as the sun set behind the dunes so did the firelight, and Reaver shrugged it off as another illusion. Lilith rarely talked, and more than once she had fallen to her knees. He was always there to pick her up, however, and together they continued their march.

Lilith's head bobbed up, and her eyes squinted, "Are those...are those torches?"

He followed her gaze, once again spotting the moving flames. Reaver rubbed his face, looking once more to discover that they were indeed torches, held by the unmistakeable form of Sir Walter Beck; he only assumed the smaller blaze to his left was manned by the young Ben Finn. His lip cracked open again as he smiled, "Seems your loyal knights have finally come."

She sighed deeply, her entire form shaking with relief, "Thank goodness they're alright."

He laughed, turned her into his chest, then swept her up as if she weighted no more than a doll, "I see that annoying sense of self-sacrifice is still intact. Now, if you don't mind, I believe this will be much faster."

"Reaver..!" She tried in vain to push herself out of his grasp, "Put...me...down...!"

"And miss all the fun? No, I think not. Come now, Princess, do look more distressed for our audience; I'd rather like them to think I've ravished you beyond all rational thought."

"Really? You know, they could think I did the same to you, based on how you look." He was shocked by her little counter, but not so much as to unsettle him. He was used to such jibs from her mother, after all, and knew exactly how to counter back.

Lifting her head closer to his own, he purred, "Really? Perhaps I should give them a reason to think otherwise?"

He laughed at the blush that painted her face, visible even in the pale moonlight. Once he was sure she would be all but tongue tied, Reaver called, "Hello! Over here!" The fires seemed to spur forward, and upon further inspection Reaver found they were riding those fascinating creatures called camels. A third flame came into view, then a forth, and he was thankful to find that the forth also led two camels who held no mounts. It was nice to be thought of.

Sir Beck was the first to reach them, his eyes glowering as he looked at the way he held the Princess, "Reaver you son of a-!"

"Walter! Please..." Lilith said, her voice sounding exhausted, "He...saved me. Please, no fighting," her eyes closed, and her head fell lightly against Reaver's chest, "to tired...to stop it."

Ben came up beside Walter, brows furrowed with worry, "Lilith!"

"Sh! Believe me when I say, gents, she needs her rest." He gave them a very misleading smirk.

A small fist banged against his chest, "S-stop it..."

He laughed again, watching the relief flush over the other men's faces, "As you wish. Now, if you don't mind I'd rather like to get off of my feet. I assume one of those wonderful creatures are for me?" He walked over to the rather lovely young lad with tan skin who held the reins of the two mounts, winking at a rather pale young woman with white paint on her face as he passed by, "Lovely! Now, if one of you wouldn't mind..." He placed Lilith gently over the hump of one of the camels, then fell against the beast's back, "...could you help me up? I don't think...I have the...the strength..." He heard a shout, a laugh, and then nothing as his body sent him into a deep, much needed sleep.

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**Reaver: You are going to tell them, aren't you?  
**

**Me: By tell them do you mean shamelessly promote my deviantart account?**

**Reaver: Is it shameless if it features me?**

**Me: Yes. Extremely so.**

**Reaver: Oh, well, you win some you loose some.**

**Me: Right. Well, anyway, if you want to see the pictures I've drawn just go to deviantart and look at the newest for Fable 3. My account name is linzy3419 (original, eh?). I would post a link but they don't seem to work anymore...**

**Reaver: Your originality once again stuns me into silence, my dear.**

**Me: I'll show you original...you...! Ugh, I'm tired. Good night all!  
**


	9. Aurora

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Eight: Aurora**

**There is a LOT of dialogue in this chapter 0_0...Anyway, sorry for the long wait; that damn art pad has stolen my soul...Thanks for all the reviews, they made me really happy! And I need to start making Reaver, well, Reaverish again...but maybe in the next chapter, lol. Oh, if I don't update for a while it's because either my art pad has devoured me once more, or I can't get an internet signal, so sorry in advance. Well, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for sticking with me for so long ;-;**

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_Everything was burning, and as Lilith turned to look upon Fairfax Hill she almost cried. Her home, everything she knew, was consumed by hungry flame. She ran, fighting back the dark arms that grabbed at her hair and clothes, ignoring the red eyes that bore into her. The streets were flooded with the blood of her people, their cries an ever playing chorus that had no end. A building toppled before her, and Lilith had mere moments to roll to the side. _

_Dust filled the air, along with the ash of buildings long devoured by the crimson flames. All around her was shadow, and her heart sank as she found she was alone. Lilith got to her feet, hugging herself close; how could it be so cold when all around her burned? Her breath danced before her, appearing and disappearing, mimicking the smoke that billowed from Bowerstone's rooftops. Bodies of the fallen lay scattered all around her; she knew not what drove her to look upon them, but her eyes could not tear away form the site. _

_Oh how she wished they could._

_She inhaled sharply as the prone form of her childhood sweetheart lay face down in a pool of his own blood, his new bride wrapped under his arms. The voice from the cave seemed so close she could feel its words vibrating against her ear, "_At least they died together..." _She ignored it, hardening her heart as she moved on to the next row of bodies. Dark pools began forming around her, and she could see the shapes of those strange angel statues off in the distance. The cold whispers of the shadows echoed all around her, so many she could not make sense of the noise, and began running to escape the sound._

_She stopped at the next battered body. It was that of Page, her corpse impaled on a shard of glass in the tattoo shop. Lilith stepped forward, her hand outstretched when the face of her deceased friend turned to face her, a demonic grin on her pale face, _"Why didn't you help us! We needed you! You left us here to die!"_ Lilith ran from the heartless cackle that followed closely behind her, echoing inside her head._

_Lilith reached the tiny bridge when she saw the back of the familiar soldier's coat, the blond hair now dimmed by the smoke and fire. She raced towards him, calling, _"Ben! Ben, is it you-?"

_The creature turned to face her, skin gray and eyes black, and when he smiled black ooze flowed from his mouth, _"Lilith..." _His hand reached out to her, and she took a step back, _"Come, Lilith, join us. He cannot awaken without you..." _The beast that wore Ben's face took a step towards her, and she fled from him, only to run into another form she knew all to well._

_Trapped between the man she knew as a father and a man she knew as a friend, Lilith screamed, _"Stay away from me!"

_They only moved in closer, Walter's cold eyes frowning, _"Stay away? Me? The one who raised you?"_ She had not been watching the demonic Ben, and found herself in a vice grip. Walter laughed, _"Such an ungrateful child..."

_There was a ripping sound, and when she looked her skin had been torn away along with her sleeve. The bodies of her friends transformed into horrible dark creatures, eyes gleaming as red as the blood that now flowed from her arm. Lilith screamed, to frightened to feel the pain that erupted from her arm, that haunting cackle ever present in her mind._

"Join us..."

"Bring us the dark angel..."

"The children are hungry..."

_Lilith..._

_She reached out her hand, dark water seeping into her lungs._

_Lilith!_

_It was past her nose, soon all but her eye remained visible._

"She's slipping..."

"No! Lily, wake up!"

_She felt something warm drape over her shoulders, and she gripped it with all her strength..._

"See? Lily, come on now, open your eyes."

_She couldn't. She didn't want to see..._

"Get out of the way, boy! Lilith, dear, it's time for you to wake..."

_Couldn't they understand? She didn't want to open her eyes, she didn't want to see them covered in blood or...or worse..._

"The child is to far gone."

"My dear hag, I'll tell you when she is to far gone. Now," she heard a familiar clicking noise, but in the darkness she could not recognize it, "wake her before you meet a darkness of your own."

"You're going to shoot her? Are you crazy? She's the only one keeping Lily alive!"

"That's going to far, Reaver!" That voice, husky and angry, but familiar.

Lilith groaned, her hand loosening its grip on the warmth that draped her right shoulder, "W-Walter...?"

Her eyes opened slowly, then shut almost instantly, the dim candle-light far to bright for her liking. She waited for the dots to disappear from behind her eyelids, then tried opening them again. What they revealed was the very worried face of Sir Walter, followed closely by a frowning Ben Finn and an ever smiling Reaver. There was another face, one who was absolutely fearful, and as realization hit her Lilith yelled, "Reaver! Put your gun away!"

"As you wish," with a flourish the pistol was back at his side, a snide smirk gracing his lips, "you see, Mr. Finn, a little persuasion will go a long way."

Ben pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger, "You are impossible."

The old woman, who still eyed Reaver warily, asked, "How are you feeling, young woman?"

"I..." She frowned; how was she feeling? Terrified, that's for sure, but otherwise only a deep weariness still lingered. She could feel their eyes on her, and she quickly laughed and said, "I feel fine-"

"Indeed, well then I suppose you wouldn't mind getting up, would you?" Reaver asked, a small hint of annoyance in his voice, "I'd rather like to get back to our dear Albion. Away from such creepy crawlies that stalk in the night."

"What's wrong, Reaver? Loose your stomach for adventure?" Walter laughed, a mocking look in his eye.

Ben soon joined him, "He's just upset that he can't pretty up in such poor conditions."

"Might I suggest a nice bullet between your eyes? It would do wonders for those frown lines on your forehead."

Ben stepped forward, the playful smirk all but gone, "I dare you to try-"

The gun flashed before anyone could think, the hammer clicking back once more. Lilith practically lept from the bedside, gripping his arm, "Stop!" A wave of dizziness, dots once more dancing before her eyes, and her legs gave way. She fell, her arms slipping from Reaver's like two ribbons coming undone.

Ben caught her before she hit the ground, looking down at her then back at Reaver with a snarl, "Look at what you did now!"

"Am I to blame if I have such an affect on the young Princess?"

"She's in no condition-!"

Reaver shot him an almost threatening look, "Perhaps you wish to have the same affect, no?"

Ben's face was hidden behind blond bangs, concealing the small blush that bloomed on his cheeks from Lilith, "I...how _dare_ you!"

Reaver's eyes darted to Walter, that mocking sneer returning, "Of course; how foolish of me. Soldiers cannot associate with royalty in such a manner."

"Enough!" Walter's voice boomed in the tiny stone room, rage hidden poorly behind the loud demand. He took Lilith from Ben's arms, easily carrying her back to the bedside, "That both of you would hold such a childish argument while Lilith is like this proves what idiots you truly are," he shot Reaver a glare, stopping him from his retort as he lay the Princess back on the cushions, "and yes, you are idiots. Now if you two would get your act together, I believe we should look into finding a boat or something so we _can_ get home."

A cool hand brushed aside a stray strand of her hair, and she saw Walter smiling at her, "You rest now; let us take care of things."

"But I-!"

"Now now, no buts! As your dear old Walter has said, we shall take things from here." Reaver looked to Ben, for all the world seeming as if nothing had happened between the two, "Well boy, I assume you know your way about a ship?" He was about to say yes, when Reaver clapped his hands, "Excellent! Come along then, perhaps you'll be useful in this little venture, though I highly doubt it." He spun on his heel, heading out the door. He did not turn his head, only wave a hand and said, "Tatty-bye, dear Princess, we shall be back shortly."

Ben looked back at Walter, looking like a man heading for the gallows, "Do I really-?"

"Why, absolutely! You wouldn't want to miss this chance to become such bosom companions, would you?" Walter laughed, crossing his arms.

His frown only deepened, "Almost as much as I'd like to have my arm torn off by a balverine-"

"Ben dear! Do hurry! I grow ever so lonely without your company!"

He looked at Lilith, who was now red-faced with laughter, "Oh, yeah, it's so funny." He winked at her, smiling, "I'll get you back for this."

"I hate repeating myself, Mr. Finn!"

"Keep your panties on, you...you...!" He sighed, shoulders slumped, "I'm going to hate this, I just know it."

Both Walter and Lilith laughed as he followed Reaver's footsteps, Walter giving a final shout of, "Keep your eyes on your backside, Ben!"

"Oh shut it!"

They exploded into laughter once more, sure that it would echo far after their footsteps did. Once the rabble calmed down, the old woman that had previously been over Lilith's head sighed, "You Albion folk are a lively bunch."

"I...suppose so." Lilith pushed up on her arm, waving Walter's arm away, "No, thank you. I'll be fine."

"Right. And I suppose that green under your eyes is a new make-up you're trying?" She gave him a look, and he only laughed, "That didn't work when you were eight, and it won't work now. I know I won't convince you to take it easy, damn you and that stubborn streak of yours, but at least try to for an old man's nerves?"

She smiled weakly, "Thanks for not guilting me into it."

"It's the only thing that worked on your mother too." His eyes grew distant, though the smile was still warm. After a moment her turned back to her, the worry back in his eyes, "So, mind telling me exactly what happened? I'll be damned if I believe those fop of stories Reaver's been spouting."

"What...what has he been saying?"

"Things that would turn your ears red," he laughed as she hid her face behind a hand, "I knew they weren't true. From what the priestess here has told us, it couldn't have been to fun."

"I'd," she sighed, avoiding his eyes, "I'd rather not talk about it..."

"And with good reason. Few survive what your Princess has just been through." From the opening of the room Lilith saw a pale young woman with two blue tattooes over her temples, a broad white stripe going down between intense brown eyes all the way to her chin. She was not smiling, in fact by the look on her face it seemed like years had passed since she had. Her sandals whispered across the stone floor, and as her eyes locked on Lilith's she found she could not look away, "Your brother also survived the Crawler; perhaps such strength runs in your family."

"My brother...?" She sat up straighter, brows furrowed, "Logan...he faced that creature?"

"Yes, and almost died because of it. We found him alone, wondering the desert, nearly mad." She nodded towards the priestess, "If it were not for the High Priestess, he would have been another soul claimed by the darkness."

Walter's eyes thinned, "The darkness? You mean the plague that has afflicted your people?"

"It is more than a mere plague, sir knight." There was a bite to her words, and her eyes shot back to Lilith, "You know, do you not? The pain my people have suffered."

Lilith shook her head, "I don't understand. Logan wouldn't keep something like this from me-"

"Perhaps it was to hide the promise he broke?" The hatred that seethed from her eyes almost burned the skin, "I suppose he said nothing of this aswell? His promise to deliver my people from the shadows?"

"No, he-" She stopped herself before completing he statement. Telling this woman her brother declared Aurora a dead continent would be disasterous, "-he said nothing about it."

"I wonder if you do not blame him, after witnessing the horrors for yourself?"

Lilith frowned, snapping, "Do not speak of my brother as if you know him."

"I know him well enough to call him a liar and a coward."

She clenched her fists, "I would know the name of the woman who would besmerch my family to my face."

The woman was quiet for a moment, the hints of an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips, "There is a fire in you, one that is hard to put out. Very well, Princess, you may call me Kalin. Forgive me if I sound bitter, but..." Her voice trailed off, and a deep sadness replaced her previous hatred, "we have lost so many. The hope my people had of salvation died along with your brother's promise."

Lilith relaxed her hands, frowning still, "I...I apologize as well. I don't know why Logan has changed so much, nor why he would ignore a people so obviously in need, but I promise you I will confront him on the matter."

"Only confront? It was my understanding you were in the midst of an uprising."

"We are," Walter cut in, voice grim, "though it does not mean we will not get answers."

Kalin frowned, "Answers are nice, but actions are better." She went to stand by Lilith, kneeling so they were eye-level, "You desire troops for your army? You have them, if you only promise to save my people from the terror that hunts us in the night."

Lilith sat as straight as she could, held out her hand to Kalin, and shook the much paler skin, "I promise."

Kalin sighed, standing once more, "Forgive me if I do not hope, but perhaps if we assist you, you will be more inclined to keep your oath." She watched as the Priestess walked out of the room, "If you excuse me, there is much to prepare for. If I were you I would check on your other two companions," she began to walk from the room, "they seem the type that would rather shoot each other than trade glances."

"Hoo boy, if you only knew," Lilith sighed, running a hand through her hair.

Walter smiled, "Should I go after them?"

Lilith slid her feet to the side, standing gingerly on weak legs, "No, I think that's a job for the two of us." Lilith saw the concern in his eyes, and gave him a smile, "I'm fine. Really."

"Alright, if you say so. But I'll be right behind you, just incase you _aren't_ fine."

She laughed, heading into the main enterance, "Fair enough."

It was dark out, the stars a startling contrast against the crisp night sky. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes, howling like a wolf in mourning. Lilith hugged herself against the cold, a deep seeded sadness hanging heavily in the air. She reached the first flight of stairs, wondering why the pathway to a temple would look so neglected, as if years had passed since another human being had swept away the sand and debris. Then Lilith scanned the city, and realized why.

It was a ghost town, empty houses now shambling skeletons that cried and crumbled with the wind. Of the few that did have candles burning had locked or baracaded doors, and she saw frightened eyes staring out of tiny cracks and holes as she passed by. Letters were posted here and there, on statues or doorframes, each telling a heartbreaking tale of loved ones lost or stolen; one was even written by the hand of Kalin. Tears stung her eyes as Lilith read the promise between father and daughter, and she did not move on until Walter placed a warming hand on her shoulder. The world seemed all but void of any presense but their own, until a gunshot sounded by the shore, and a feeling of dread filled Lilith like a blow to the stomach. Without looking at each other, both the Princess and Walter bolted towards the docks, the smell of gunpowder joining that of the sea breeze.

The blood drained from Lilith's face as she saw Ben, crouched over with his arms wrapped around his stomach, shaking. Reaver had his back to him, pistol still steaming from its blast. She ran towards the soldier, screaming, "Ben! Ben, are you-?"

He took in a sharp breath, then laughed louder than Lilith had heard in months. Tears were streaming down his eyes, and he stammered, "I-ha ha! I-I'm fine-!" His eyes looked to the back of Reaver's head, and he doubled over laughing again.

Lilith looked to the taller man, confused, "Reaver...?"

He practically shoved the pistol back in its holster, not meeting her eyes, "Tell your dear friend there if he does not cease in that annoying chuckling, my next shot will be aimed for his head."

Walter caught up with her, breathing heavily, "What in bloody hell happened?"

Lilith followed the line that Reaver's gun would have taken, her eyes coming to rest on the fragments of a shattered gnome. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "Was that-?"

Reaver gave her a look that chilled her blood, "My dear, dear Lilith. I advise you to stop that train of thought, least you get hurt."

"Yeah," Ben stood, rubbing tears from his eyes, "wouldn't want you to feel the pain like his fragile feelings just did."

"W-what on earth did it say?"

There was something in Ben's eye that made Lilith giggle, "Oh, something about pirates."

"Pirates?"

"Oh yes," he snickered, "and booty. Then another bit about being afraid of the dark-"

"Mr. Finn, I will warn you once and only once, should you continue down this path of conversation, you _will_ find a bullet lodged in your brain." There was no playful tone to his words, and the look on Reaver's face was that of utter hatred. For the longest time the two men stared each other down, until a cough from Walter broke the silence. Reaver looked towards the docks, heading towards a rather small ship with two men standing atop its decks.

Lilith hurried after him, asking, "Wait, Reaver! I don't think that ship will carry all of us-"

"No, it won't. That is why yours is the one to your left, dear."

She stopped, heart sinking, "So...you're not coming with us?"

He stopped before stepping on the ladder to the ship, his laugh sounding more like a sigh, "No, my dear. I am not. There is a previous engagement I must attend to, post haste." He turned to her, a reassuring smile crinkling the heart below his eye, "Never fear, however. I'll be back for your corination. Besides," he nodded to one of the sailors while walking up the tiny plank, "I believe your mother would come back to haunt me if I helped in this sibling rivalry."

"Reaver-?"

He turned to look at her once more, noting the small blush on her face. Raising an eyebrow, he purred, "Yes?"

"I...um..." She looked to her feet, defeated, "H-have a safe trip."

He laughed, waving as the ship began to slowly pull away from the harbor, "Indeed, and you a safe revolt. I'll be ever so cross with you should I come back and find you dead."

She watched as his ship slowly shrank in the distance, sighing heavily once it was fully out of sight. Lilith nearly jumped out of her skin when Ben said, "I can't believe you."

She turned on him, glaring, "What?"

"Of all the men in Albion for you to fall for-" He turned, throwing his arms in the air, "If you think for a second I'm going to acknowledge him as _my_ king-!" He started running as she ran after him, her hand balled into a fist. The only thing saving Ben from a beating was Walter's scolding the both of them, plus the added eyes of the Auroran naval fleet.

* * *

**Yep, so I gave in to Reaver's pushing of shamelessly telling you all of my deviantart account...Um, here's a link to my gallery. If you guys are interested...man, I am an attention whore _**

.com/

and if it doesn't come up at all, just type h t t p : / / l i n z y 3 4 1 9 . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m /

but without all the spaces XD

**You might have to copy and paste it in the url field...if you're interested...Imma shut up now ;-;**


	10. It's a Revolution

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Nine: It's A Revolution**

**Holy crap this is a loooooong chapter! Sorry for the long update, but I couldn't decide on who to write about first, so I stayed up for about twenty-four hours debating, deciding, and then writing, lol. Anyway, there are some spoiler parts in this chapter, so if you haven't taken the throne then I advise you wait 'til you do (it's so awesome, I'd rather not spoil it for you)! Thank you all for reading my story; and I hope you're still enjoying it. And please leave a review; it just adds fuel to the fire of my writing, lol.**

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They were getting close, Lilith could see the peaks of the mountains she had known all her life. Butterflies didn't dance in her stomach, they nearly tore them apart, and the added rocking and swaying of the ship did nothing to soothe her condition. Her eyes never left the ever growing sight of her Albion, nor had her fingers stopped clutching the railing so hard she was sure there would be nail marks beneath them. She sighed heavily, taking in a refreshing breath of salt air.

"Have you eaten anything in the last, oh I don't know, twelve hours?" Lilith nearly jumped from the side, but as she turned her head she met the smiling eyes of Ben Finn. He joined her by the railing, crossing his arms along the banister, "Getting nervous?"

She raised an eyebrow, "What do you think?"

"Careful Princess, you know how fragile my feelings are." He laughed as her fist left the side of his arm, "You're so violent!"

"Shut up, Ben..."

He watched as her face changed from slight annoyance back to its unusual brooding. He turned, sitting himself where his arms previously rested, "You know, it's not normal to see you like this."

Her eyes widened, and she unconsciously put both hands to her cheeks, "Huh? Like what?"

"You know, not smiling, or laughing, or reassuring everyone that it's all going to be okay," he sighed dramatically, flicking the side of his hair with a finger, "it's quite troubling."

"I..." Her eyes lowered, and she chewed the bottom of her lip, "Ben, am I doing the right thing? Am I even qualified to rule?"

"Lily," he took both her hands in his, the soldier's face becoming more serious than Lilith had ever seen, "there is no other person in the world more suited for this job. Trust me, if it weren't true you wouldn't have so many people believing in you."

"I just-" Her voice began to crack, and she hid her eyes from him, "What Kalin said...about the darkness..."

He lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. A strange feeling ran through him as he watched small pearls forming at their corners, "You don't have to worry about that; I know you can beat anything thrown at you." He gave her a wink, "And besides, you'll have me and Walter beside you, so if you screw up we'll tell you."

Lilith gave a quick laugh and wiped her eyes, "Thanks, Ben."

"Anytime."

Loud footfalls shook the planks below them, and both Lilith and Ben watched as Sir Walter passed them and headed towards one of the life boats, a rather large back slung over his shoulder. They exchanged looks, then Lilith ran after Walter, trying to keep pace with the older man as he walked, "W-where are you going?"

"To shore; someone has to inform the Resistance we're back." He flung his burden into the small wooden vessel, one of the Auroran sailors already putting it under a seat.

Lilith shook her head, frowning, "But...but isn't that dangerous? What if your caught?"

He gave her a hearty laugh, "Lily, we're about to attack a fortress that houses all of Logan's men, and you're worried about a small fishing trip?"

"This is serious! You're not fishing for fish, but Resistance members!"

"True, but do you know how else we'll tell them we're back?"

"I-!" She frowned, "No..."

He ruffled her hair, smiling, "Don't worry, your old Walter won't die in some rickety old boat. Now, tell Kalin to meet us at the southern docks in Driftwood. We'll meet up there and continue on to Bower Harbor."

Before he could sling his foot over the railing Lilith gripped him in a hug, burying her face in his chest, "Be careful, Walter..."

He patted her on the back, smiling, "Of course, Lilyroo, of course. Now, you should probably let me go unless you want that idiot to make fun of you for the rest of the trip." She nodded, stepping back. Lilith watched him as the boat was lowered, then sailed off into the darkness, to far from their lanterns to see.

She walked back slowly to where Ben stood, just sensing the laugh that was blooming in his chest. She shot him a glare, "Go ahead. I know you want to."

"Want to what? Laugh at you? For being such an adorable little puppy? No, I don't think I can."

Lilith laced her fingers together and placed them under her chin, then leaned forward and puckered her lips, "You think I'm adorable?"

He crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised, "And childish."

"Childish?"

"Yeah," he leaned in closer, "childish."

The boat suddenly jerked upward, a chorus of "woahs" and "hang ons" playing in the background. Lilith fell hard on the ground, her head cracking against the wooden planks so hard her teeth shattered. Then something heavy feel atop her, and the wind was knocked from her lungs. Opening her eyes, she saw her face reflected in flawless blue ones, just as wide has her's probably were. She frowned, "Are you alright?"

"You're the one that hit your head!"

"Huh? Oh!" She laughed a little, "I feel fine."

He sighed, head dropping down. Ben's face lit on fire as he realized what he was now staring at, and he quickly looked back to her eyes, "I, um, I should get off you now."

She gave him an impish smirk, "Why Ben, is that a blush I see?"

"Ah, ha ha, yeah, definitely time for me to get up." He shot off of her like a bullet, though he did lend her his hand to help her to her feet. Lilith grasped it, still smiling, though when she stood her legs gave way and she landed in his arms. For a moment they just stood there, until Ben coughed, "Um...Lily...?"

"Sorry," she pushed off of him, rubbing the back of her head, "I guess that bump did more than I th-ouch!"

"What?"

When she removed her hand from the back of her head she cursed, watching as red liquid fell from her fingers. Ben grabbed her hand, eyebrows furrowed, "Damn it, Lily! You said you were fine!"

"I didn't know!"

"Turn around."

"I said I was fi-!"

"Turn. Around!" She did as she was told, though she huffed a bit and stomped her foot as she did so. She felt his fingers digging at the back of her head, the stray strands tickling the back of her neck. She heard him remove something from his pocket, a small popping noise, then felt a cool pressure where the blood had been, "It doesn't seem to be to bad."

She started to look back, "What are you-?"

"Don't move your head!"

"Okay! Geez!" She turned straight once more, the small stinging of her wound slowly disappearing. She fought back the urge to look at him once more, "Will you tell me what you're doing?"

"Something Swift taught me," the pressure on her head left, then there was a sound of liquid moving back and forth behind glass, then he placed whatever it was he had back on her wound, "this way you don't waste potions."

She smiled, a curious glint in her eye, "So that's what you're putting on my head?"

He laughed, "Yeah, I guess so. Don't think it'll cure that stupid streak of yours, though."

"Oh well, you can't cure everything."

"You know, poking fun at people isn't as fun if they just accept it."

"I accept my stupidity, just like you should accept yours."

"Ah, and there's the kick. Alright! You're done," she twirled to face him, and found a concerned look on his face, "better?"

She smiled, "Yes, thank you."

He turned away, "Y-yeah, no problem." Ben started walking away from her, waving his hand, "I better go check on the men below deck. Didn't Walter tell you to do something?"

"Huh? Oh!" She frowned, taking off ahead of him, "Yeah, sorry! I'll see you later, Ben!"

He laughed as he watched her go, almost falling again when the boat tipped to the side. She really was horrible at sea.

* * *

Page had arrived just before the sun came up behind the Spire, a hauntingly beautiful sight that sent a chill down Lilith's spine. Fog hugged them like a selfish lover, the chill in the air making it no easier for her to stand around in a simple t-shirt. She cursed herself for not grabbing her jacket before walking into that damned cave. She heard someone shout her name, and as she looked along the shore she saw Kidd waving at her. She smiled and waved back, receiving woops and cheers as the other rebels joined the shoreline. She blushed, but waved even harder, her confidence boosted by the support of her friends.

She turned in time to catch Page walking towards her, their hands grasping one another tightly as they came face to face. Then Page gripped her in a tight hug, the relief in her voice almost palpable, "Walter told us what happened; I'm glad to see you safe."

Lilith laughed, patting her friend on the back, "Come on, you don't need me."

Page gave a nervous laugh in answer, "Right, because we were doing swimmingly without you."

Their embrace ended, and Lilith looked her in the eye, "You were, just not as stylish as I have."

She rolled her eyes, "Right, stylish. That's one way of putting it. Anyway, we're all here, so when you're ready to begin we can start planning."

Lilith motioned forward, "Ready when you are."

They walked to the center of the boat, Lilith's face lighting up when she saw that Sabine was amongst her small party. The old man turned and smiled, his many golden braclets jingling as he moved, "Well now! If it isn't the mighty hero!"

She leaned down and gave him a hug, "It's good to see you again, Sabine."

"See this, boy? This is how you get women; let them come to you." He winked at Ben, who grumbled something to low for either Lilith or Sabine to hear.

Walter put his fist to his face and coughed, "Now that all the silliness has been put aside, can we start talking over strategies?"

Ben raised his hand, "Can I go first?"

"No-"

"Why are we going to attack from the Old Quarter? Why not hit them where it'll really hurt and go for the Industrial District!"

Page eyed him flatly, "Right, and then we'll go down in history as the shortest rebellion ever quelled." She grabbed a barrel from behind her and unrolled a rather intricate map of Bowerstone. Her finger traced alone the shore of the Old Quarter, "We need a frontal assault from here, in order to take out the mortars they've placed to take out the ships."

Lilith frowned, "So Logan knows we're here?"

Page nodded, "Yes, there was a spy in our headquarters; luckily Kidd caught him before he got to far."

Lilith chewed her lip, "So how much _does_ he know?"

She gave her a confident smile, "Enough that this is going to be one hell of a fight. Anyway, once the mortars are taken care of, then Kalin and her ships can move in closer and take care of Logan's naval fleet. Most of her ground troops have already infiltrated the city dressed as dwellers, who arrived shortly this morning with Sabine under the ruse of a farmer's market."

"Your blasted brother wouldn't so much as meet me in the hallway, I'll have you know!" Sabine pouted, drawing in a long draft from his pipe.

Ben smirked, "I don't blame him for that one."

"Shut up, Ben." Walter sighed.

"_As I was saying_, once his heavy machines are busy with our boats, I'll lead a small distraction team through the back allies and undergrounds, by that time you and a small team will have reached the first gate. Sabine," he looked away from his glaring at Ben to meet her eyes, "that's when we'll need those explosives you brought."

"You can count on me, lass."

She nodded, her face once more burying itself in the map, "After the first gatehouse you should be nearing the bridge that leads up to the castle. I'll try to meet you there but I'm sure Logan'll have scores of men waiting for us." She paused for a moment, locking eyes with Kidd. She frowned, "Some of us...won't make it back."

"I'd follow you to hell and back, Page."

She smiled, then looked to Lilith, ""Regardless, my men will keep the most of the fighting away from you, while you and your team storm the castle gates. By the time you reach them they should be open-"

"I can open them with a nice bomb or two."

Page sighed, "I know, Sabine, but we need to avoid damaging the Old Quarter as much as possible." She leaned up and stretched her arms, "Well, that's my plan. All that needs to be done then is taking care of Logan."

Walter patted Lilith's shoulder, "That'll be up to us, and maybe Ben if he feels like it."

"So I'm on frontal team?"

Lilith smiled, "Seems like it."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, "And why can't we use my idea?"

Kalin waved her hand at him, "Because we'll live longer than five seconds."

"Fine!" He looked to Page, his eyes squinted, "I only put it up to annoy her, anyway."

Page rolled her eyes, then looked to Lilith, "Of course, it's all up to you."

Lilith nodded, pounding her fist against the flat of her palm, "I think we'll go with your plan."

"All right then! Let's start a revolution!" Walter exclaimed, holding his hand over the barrel. Ben soon followed, covering Walter's with his own, then Page, Sabine, and Kalin joined in. Lilith looked at each of their faces, her confidence skyrocketing.

Her gauntlets covered the top of them all, and as they all lifted their hand in the air their shout, "For Albion!" carried across the water and seemed to wake up the land around them.

* * *

Lilith jumped, grabbed the little boy, and rolled as the building came crashing down behind them, sweat beading on her forehead. She looked at the shaking form that was now in her arms, "Are you alright?"

The little thing looked up at her with eyes so wide she thought they would fall out, "Y-yes..."

"Lilith!" She heard Page call from behind them, and she lifted the child and ran towards her friend, shooting a fire ball at a barrel of oil and taking out a row of Logan's soldiers. She gave Lilith a frown when she reached her, "Who's the kid?"

"I don't know, but is there someone who can take him?" She was panting heavily, her eyes taking in the bloody play that was being performed around her. Ben was pulling his blade from the stomach of some soldier who looked about her age, Walter blasting two more in the same way she had with her fire spell.

The boy cried, burying his head in her neck, "I want my momma..."

Lilith hugged him, "Don't worry, we'll find her."

Page looked more closely at the boy's face, and she smiled, "Micheal? Is that you?"

His little head popped up, "Y-yes..."

Page let out a sharp whistle, a few moments later a young woman came running, her shirt stained with blood. Page sighed, "Anna, can you take Micheal back to his mother? She's with the other villagers."

"Right way, Ms. Page." She smiled, holding her arms out for Lilith, "Come on, little guy, let's go see your mom. I'm sure she's sick with worry."

Lilith handed the shaking bundle over, waving as he went from her arms to another's. The little guy still had a face whiter than snow, but he waved and called, "T-thank you for saving me!"

"Well, that was heartwarming. How about we get back to the dismembering parts, now?"

Lilith laughed, hearing the faint pop of her gauntlets as she charged up her spell, "I'll leave that to you. Come on, I think Ben needs help."

"In more ways than one!"

The women ran after their male companions, Lilith sending a storm of ice and fire ahead of them towards a group of ten soldiers, Ben and Page cutting down those who managed to escape its bite. Walter took down the men who were perched on walls, roofs, or trees, as the group made their way up the cobblestone walkway to the bridge leading into the castle. They were soon joined by Sabine's dwellers, or Kalin's troops, or both for all Lilith knew; she was just happy to see so many had lived. At least twenty of Logan's men awaited them by the gate, and her heart sank as she saw it was closed tight.

A battle cry echoed through the night, followed by the clash of steel, and she knew her next battle had begun. Lilith and Page rolled to either side, avoiding a bomb that some soldier had thrown; the man lived long enough to realize he had missed, as Ben's cutlass pierced his stomach. Lilith got to her knees, blasting away a single man with a fire ball, ignoring his screams as she moved on to the next. The sword she now removed from her back felt heavy in her hand, nothing like her Casanova, but as she parried the blow of the soldier she decided it was a wonderful weapon. Dazed, the man back stepped, giving Lilith enough time to flip off the ground, wrap her legs around his neck, and twist. He fell in a crumpled heap, and she smiled as she noted the whistle that came from Ben.

The next was still stunned form her previous stunt, and in a flurry of motion she leapt over him, plunging her blade deep into his back, then ripping it out as the body fell. Then something bit into her left leg, and she cried out. Walter was there before she even saw the face of her enemy. He helped her stand, barking, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yes! I'm fine!" She then grabbed his pistol from its holster and shot a man who had tried to stab Walter in the back. Once she was sure he was dead, she handed it back to him, smiling.

Walter raised an eyebrow, "I don't think I taught you that."

"Nope!" She started running towards the gate, answering a yell for help by blasting away another soldier, saving the life of one of the dwellers she had seen in the camp. The man's color was gone, but he gave her a nod, shouting something about a permanent discount at his store.

They fought for another ten minutes until all around them was blood and limbs, yet the gate remained every closed. Ben came up beside Lilith, throwing his arms in the air, "_Always_ with the damn gates!"

Page flicked the blood from her blade, "What we need is explosives...but I used all of mine on the way here."

"If only we knew a tiny, crazy old man who enjoyed blowing things up-!" Ben's arms wrapped around Lilith as the door exploded into splinters, the heat licking her cheeks until his body covered her.

"Ha ha! Did you see that, Boulder? Let the whole city bow to our thunder!"

Once the blast faded away, Lilith looked over Ben's shoulder to see the silhouette of said crazy old man along with his towering friend Boulder. Then she realized she was being held, and blushed wildly, "Um, Ben, I think I'm okay now..."

He let her go, a sigh of relief leaving Lilith as she noticed he hadn't seen her blush, "Hang on, how did you get to the other side in the first place?"

"Dwellers have there ways, my boy." He twirled his funny white mustache around a bone like finger, "Is there anyone left to kill?"

Page joined in, "There will be soon. More troops will be on their way. Kalin's fleet got a fair few, but not all."

Ben turned to Lilith, a confident smile on his face, "We'll hold them off."

Sabine walked past him, "Come on, Boulder, there's more fighting to be done."

Ben's eyes locked on Lilith's, and he frowned, "Good luck in there," he smiled, "hope the crown fits."

Lilith held her fist up, "Right!"

She looked at Walter, who returned her gaze, "Let's finish this for good. While I can still stand up on my own."

She followed him through the battered gate, smirking, "You poor old man; I should have left you on the boat." They both shared a nervous laugh as the entered behind the gates, climbing the hill that would lead to her brother.

**

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The castle was deserted, and Lilith was beginning to wonder if Logan had not gone with his troops. Then she thought better of it; she knew where he'd be. The came upon the doors to the War Room, and Walter gave her a grin, "Should we knock? Nah, let's surprise him." She smiled nervously, then followed him as he lifted his foot, and together they kicked in the door.

He stood right where she knew he'd be, his sword quickly flashing from its hilt. He paced around the circled map of their land, "So, this is how it ends. The old fool, and the child that ran away." Logan's eyes locked with Lilith's, and the sword quickly disappeared back into its scabbard, "You've finally become the woman I always wanted you to be."

They walked further into the room, Walter snapping, "She's a lot more than that, and now she's ready to take your place."

Logan frowned, the volume of his voice dropping dramatically, "Perhaps the time has come for someone else to lead Albion."

Lilith scowled, fighting back tears, "You were _never_ a leader! Just another tyrant!"

Logan started to walk towards them, his finger tracing the outline of the map, "Did it ever occur to you that I may have had good reason to be?"

Walter leaned forward, his knuckles white, "We're not interested in your reasons."

He turned to face the older man, his face deathly serious, "Cower behind ignorance if you will, but my sister deserves to know the truth."

"Save it for the trial, Logan," Walter grabbed him by the arm and began to lead him from the room, "you can beg for your life then."

Lilith met the eyes of her brother once more, but she did not see the cold, tired face of the man she had known for four years. It was that of the one who would laugh at her when she made a face, carried her inside if she had scrapped her knee, let her sleep in his bed if she had a bad dream. She had to turn away from them as the left, putting her hands to her hips and letting the sob shutter from her body as they left the room.

**

* * *

**

She was already in a horrible mood, yet this Hobson man had nearly made her loose her edge. It amazed her at how greedy one man could be, and as she stormed through the halls of the castle to the throne room she pictured hundreds of ways to make the man's life miserable. Lilith nodded to the soldiers who stopped and saluted her, the butterflies returning once more to torment her stomach. She wondered if her mother had every felt like this, or her brother.

Lilith took in a deep breath before standing into the open doorway, then she moved into the light, hearing Walter's voice echo through the crowded room, "All stand for the Queen of Albion."

She saw Logan standing to the side and smiled on the inside; they had not harmed him in his prison cell last night. He still wore the clothes which they had captured him in, and the bags under his eyes had grown considerably since the previous night, but other than that he was unharmed. All of her companions awaited her by the throne, and Lilith hurried as she noticed they had been waiting, sitting down quickly and resting her hand on laced fingers.

Walter left the step way and stood before Logan, his voice grim, "Logan, former king of Albion, you stand accused today of crimes against the kingdom and its people." He turned, gesturing towards the throne, "Those who brought you to justice will now speak."

Sabine was the first, raising his arm and stomping around her chair, "There's not a soul alive in the kingdom who hasn't suffered for his glory. And plenty who've died for it." The old man turned to her, hand reaching out as if to pull her decision out of her, "I says, let him have some death of his own!"

Ben came up from behind her, teeth clenched in rage, "Look, I'm not one for loppin' people's head off, but we saw Major Swift executed, like it was a bloody circus act! He deserves nothing less as far as I'm concerned."

"But aren't we better than that?" Page walked up to her side, a look of deep pity in her eyes, "Isn't that why we fought to be here now? I've seen what Logan has done to this city. People starving to death, children forced to work..." She looked Lilith straight in the face, her arms moving up and down as she spoke, "But killing him now won't solve anything."

Like a ghost Kalin came to her right, "It is not my place to decide his fate. But his betrayal condemned many of my people to death." Her eyes found Logan's, and her face turned cold, "He promised us salvation and then left us to face the darkness alone-"

"I had good reason to break my promise. And I had good reasons for the crimes you claim I committed." His eyes grew distant, and Logan looked to his side, "The day I returned to Albion, I received a visit, from a blind seer." He looked to Lilith, frowning, "Thereasa, our mother's guide. She showed me the future of this kingdom! The darkness in Aurora is coming _here_, bringing death, destruction, the _end_ of our way of life!" His voice grew more heated, and she could tell he was fighting the urge to yell, "The sacrifices I had to make, I did them to protect Albion! If a few had to suffer, it was to build an army. If a few had to die, it was to save a country! I have spent _years_ preparing for this attack. Let me stand by your side now and all my soldiers will be yours to command!" His eyes softened, "Let us face the coming darkness together."

Walter frowned, looking from one sibling to the next, "If it's really true...If it's really coming here...We're all in grave danger."

The ties were removed from Logan's hands, and as they did so he held out his arms towards her, his face going cold once more, "You have the power over life and death, sister. Now choose..."

Lilith sat for a moment, her eyes hidden behind light brown hair. For what seemed an eternity she stood, her face trying to match the coldness of her brother's, "This is not the time for revenge. We need your help, Logan."

The crowded erupted in a chorus of boos and shouts, and she could barely hear Walter over the rabble, "The Queen has made her decision. Logan's life, will be spared."

Her eyes trailed over to her brother's face, and she had to fight the urge to cry as she watched the frost melt away to be replaced by a relieved smile. She felt him watching her as she walked towards him, saying, "I know you will never forgive me for the things I've done. You told me so once, remember?"

Lilith stopped before him, fighting to keep her voice under control, "O-of course I do."

"But what matters now is that we defend our land. The castle is yours, and so is the throne." He laughed weakly, "I'm glad to be rid of them."

The two stood there for a while, until all that were left in the throne room were the two siblings and Walter. The old man gave her a nod, then walked out of the room himself, closing the door behind him. As the notch echoed through the empty hall, Lilith looked to her feet, "There...there are so many things I want to say to you right now. So many reasons why I want to punch you in the face, to scream at the top of my lungs how much I...I...!"

There was a small laugh from her brother, "A Queen should not cry before her subjects."

"Damn it, Logan, why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you!" She rounded on him, gripping at his arm, "Why did you do it all on your own?"

His face crumpled once more, and he held the hand that now gripped his arm, "I didn't want you to know. If I could keep you away from that...that thing, even for only five years, then so be it." His eyes met her's, and he smiled, "You are my little sister, after all."

Her sob finally choked her, and Lilith wrapped her arms around her brother, "You...you stupid...!" She held him for a while, Logan patting her head like he used to when she was upset. Then she released him, wiping her tears from her eyes, "You said five years? So that means-?"

"Yes," his face grew grim once more, and he put his arms behind his back, "The darkness will be here in about a year, if that. Though from what I hear you're already well prepared for it." There was a hint of pride behind his dark eyes, "I've heard you've collected a rather impressive amount of gold during your little runaway."

She blushed, frowning, "Well, I...yes, but where did you..."

Logan winked, putting his hand up in two circles around his eyes. She laughed at their old signal for the dark haired man who was still missing. Logan stood straight once more, crossing his arms, "Speaking of..._him_, though I don't like it, Reaver will be your most valuable asset. I don't know what I would have done without him."

"You really don't like him, do you?" Lilith asked, laughing.

"I don't think there is a word in existence that could explain my disdain for the man, but!" He sighed heavily, "He was amusing, at times. And he was dear to our mother, though why escapes me."

"I like him just fine."

Logan rolled his eyes, "You've liked him since he gave you Fandral; there was no hope for you after that." Logan looked back at the throne, frowning, "I suppose I should leave this place for a while."

"Where will you go?" Lilith asked, copying his frown.

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes, "I do not know. Perhaps I'll travel to Brightwall and help re-establish mother's library. There is..." He looked to his feet, "There is much I need make up for."

Lilith placed her hand on his shoulder, smiling, "You are always welcome here, Logan. This is your home."

"I know, but I should not be here in _your_ castle. As my Queen, it would not be proper for us to be seen together." He placed his hand over her's and squeezed lightly, "But don't make that face; I"ll come back soon." He leaned over and kissed her forehead, smiling, "I am proud of you, Lilith. I always knew you'd become something spectacular, I just wish it had come under different circumstances." Logan began to walk down the hall, calling out as he opened the door, "And do try not to cry at the drop of a coin! It is unbecoming as a Queen!"

"Get out of here before I have you hanged!" His laugh echoed through the now empty hall, and Lilith grabbed the crown that lay atop her head and dropped it on the ground, finally noticing how heavy the headpiece had become.

* * *

**Me: ASDOIFSEIOFJAS FJAEOFMIEFWAO PEOPLE LIKE MY DRAWINGS AND MY STORY!**

**Reaver: Yes, I believe it is because I am featured in both.**

**Me: N-not all the time...  
**

**Reaver: Yes, and those don't get very many comments, do they?**

**Me: You know what? I'm going to draw more Ben Finn. GLORIOUS AMOUNTS OF HIM!**

Reaver: Very well, enjoy working on a lesser piece of perfection.

**Me: Ugh, anyway, thank you all for looking at my pictures. And even more for leaving me comments ;-;  
**


	11. Sacrifice

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Ten: Sacrifice**

**Aw, this one is, like, 3,000 words shorter D: Kinda makes me a little mad, but I was using my Mac, and I don't have a good writer thingy so I'm sorry ;-;. THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEEEEEWS!~ And to answer someone's question: I haven't really decided yet. Either one would be nice, but I'm trying to see who would fit better, you know? I just hope I don't disappoint ;-;**

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Not many recognize a man when they wear a black hood, or they were smart enough to ignore them. Reaver, for once, enjoyed his solitude, even if it were to be shared by many patrons of the Leper's Arm. At least the smell of sick and mead had yet to be driven from the place.

The stools were always so damn hard. Reaver shifted uncomfortably in his wooden bar stool, missing the nice blush chairs of his manor. The rabble around him had grown even louder once the storm hit, yet it was nothing compared to the old days of Bloodstone. Alas, instead of hardened pirates, ladies (and men) of the night, and his black market lackies walking the streets, there were now hard working fishermen, sailors, mothers and fathers, and even children. He assumed he was the worst thing to grace the cobblestone streets in years, save the so-called mercenaries that were making far to much noise for his liking in the corner.

To his surprise one of the men stood from the rest of his crew, babbling on drunkenly without much sense until a few choice words graced Reaver's ears. Sloshing his beer to-and-fro, the man shouted, "And here's to the new queen! May she not have that stick so far up her arse like her dear brother!"

"Aye!" Was the answering chorus, though another pounded on the table, scowling. The man was rather ugly, fat with boils all about his face and a rather angry scar stretching from one eye to the corner of his lip. He looked up at his companions, hate burning in his small, pig eyes, "Damn that whore to hell, I says..."

"Oi, Marty, what crawled up your arse?" Asked the man who'd proposed the toast.

Marty stood, palms flat on the table's surface, "I'll tell you why. That little bitch is the reason I ain't got a job! She killed half the men I was workin' with three months ago, and I had to come to this bleedin' place to saves my own skin! Now I got a price on my head worth half'n all Bloodstone, and there ain't no way I can see of makin' that kind o' money!"

The drunk leaned in, "Who were you workin' fer?"

"It was that Ferret bastard and his gang. Somethin' about holdin' a kid hostage 'til his little wifey paid up. Then that damn princess showed up and nearly burned us all to hell!"

"A proper place to be, for miscreants like yourselves." Reaver pushed away from the bar, his stool screeching like a banshee. He walked over to the mercenaries' table, smiling under his hood.

The man known as Marty gave him a look, then drew a knife, "Lissen here, fancy boy, we've no time for the likes of lick-spittle like you, so you best clear out."

Reaver put a hand on his chest, "Oh, dear me! Whatever will I do? One truly does shudder in fear in the presence of such horrid creatures!"

"Wassat supposed to mean?"

"Must I spell it out for you? I was calling you ugly, my good man. And that is my being generous. Now," his voice grew more serious, and his hand dropped back to his side, "unless you are planning to utilize that knife, I suggest you put it away least you get hurt."

Marty looked to the drunk man, "Jimmy, let's teach this tart a lesson."

Jimmy cracked his knuckles, "Oh yeah, I've been itching for a good fight."

Reaver lowered his head, smirking, "Do be gentle..."

Jimmy threw a right jab, to which Reaver parried with his left arm, flung it away, and landed a tailored boot into the man's chest. He went sprawling backwards, crashing into the table of a few more gents enjoying the company of some ladies of the evening. Their shrieks echoed into the night, and Reaver let out a taunting laugh, "Now now! We mustn't frighten these fine ladies!"

"You son of a-!" Something silver glinted in he corner of his eye, and Reaver lazily avoided a stab to his face, grabbing the hand of its wielder and flipping him over his shoulder, watching as the air left his lungs. Marty tried to get back to his feet, only to have a boot slammed down on his stomach, forcing him back to the ground.

Reaver dug in his heel, "Yes, I rather like you this way."

Jimmy had finished digging himself up from the broken mess of the table, whatever he called a shirt covered in brown beer. He snarled, then charged, gripping Reaver like a bear. The men dashed across the pub, onlookers either gasping in horror or cheering them on, until the back of Reaver's head slammed into a wall. Dazed, Reaver could only watch as a rather sizable fist came sailing towards his face, landing on his left eye. He let out a vicious laugh, then his face grew deathly serious, and poor Jimmy never saw the knife which Reaver had so easily taken from his fellow mercenary. With a snarl he dug the blade into Jimmy's back, growling, "No one. Touches. My face-!" The man died with a look of utter surprise on his face, a strange noise leaving him as Reaver wretched the blade from his back, then kicked the corpse towards an attacking Marty. However, Reaver had not counted on the dead man's hand gripping his cloak, and as the body went flying so did his cover.

Marty went down with the body of his friend, screaming like a frightened little girl. Reaver straightened his collar, tightened his cravat, and smoothed his hair, noting the stunned silence of the room. With one warning look the room went back to its going ons, ignoring the bleeding dead man and the other that struggled beneath him. Reaver's boots splashed on the bloodstained floor, a sound he hadn't heard in quite a while. He toed at the body before him before kicking it off the struggling miscreant it covered, smirking, "Ah, there you are." The man cursed explosively, his arm reaching for his pistol, until the familiar sound of another at the ready to shoot stopped him, "Oh, I don't think you want to do that."

"Sod off you-!" Marty's eyes went wide, his face paler than his dead friend's, "M-M-M-Mister Reaver...! I didn't-!"

"Ah, so you DO know me! Well now, paint me surprised! Now if you don't mind me asking, I overheard you saying you owe quite a bit of money, yes?" Reaver held the nozzle of his Dragonstomper to his lips, smiling.

The man bowed to him as if in worship, "Oh...oh please, please no, sir! I have...I have a family! Yeah! Oh, and the little ones, what will they do without their dear Pa Pa?"

Reaver's foot slammed into the back of his head, though not hard enough to knock him unconscious, "Oh yes, how dreadful. I wonder if you know that, through Mr. Ferret, you were in MY employment?"

"Owh plwhease! Ah dihdn't know!" Reaver laughed at the muffled pleas that vibrated in his boot, digging the man's face further into the blood soaked floor.

"And I believe I over heard you saying there was no possible way to pay him back, eh?" The man was sobbing now, his words indiscernible. Reaver lifted his foot, then reached down and grabbed him by the collar, forcing him against a wall. His Dragonstomper licked the bottom of his chin, then planted a cold kiss on his neck, "I believe I know a way you can pay me back, dear Marty."

His eyes went wide, the stink of piss and beer heavy on his person, "A-a-anything, Mister Reaver! Just p-p-p-please don't kill me!"

Reaver let him go, watching in disgust as the man fell to the ground, "Please, you are worthless to me as a bleeding corpse. Besides, you are hardly worth loosing a bullet for." He ripped his cloak from the hands of the dead, slinging it over his shoulders and walking out into the rain, calling, "Come along, dear Marty! I tend to shoot those who fall behind!" He heard the hurried fumbling of the fool behind him, a wicked grin on his face as the man caught up to him.

* * *

He was surprised to find his traveling companion was still sane after all the endless fights with the walking dead and a balverine or three. However he supposed poor Marty was more afraid of him than anything in this marsh. And oh, what a strange feeling that was. It was along the borders of satisfaction...and that strange gnawing feeling he got every now and then, like a voice from a distant time trying to grab his attention. He simply ignored the matter, letting loose another bullet as a Hollow Man tried to materialize on the path before him, receiving a startled whimper from the man behind him. Twirling his pistol, Reaver called, "I do hope your other mercenary companions have more backbone than you, Marty. It is rather sad watching you."

"What kind of place is this...?" Reaver gave no response, instead he simply continued walking along the some-what beaten path, keeping an eye out for other attackers.

The damn place had grown since his last visit, something that disturbed him slightly. It normally took a span of at least fifty or so years for the marsh to expand in any noticeable manner, yet it was clear to him that the place was eating up land like a starving dog. The fog, normally unbearable on a good day, was now almost unpassable; he could frowned as his clothes stuck to his skin from the dampness. His cloak did little to keep out the damp, and the chill in the air went down to his bones. No, something was definitely different about the marsh, however he had no plans of prolonging his stay to find out. Oh how he missed his dear little Barry; the lad would be more than happy to deliver his "packages" to his dreadful, depressing destination. A rock slipped under his foot, nearly tripping him down a hill now covered in moss and ivy, and then the memories began.

_He was eight again, teetering on the edge of the cliff on a dare. Lyanna stood behind him, yelling at her brother for coaxing the younger of the three to do such a dangerous act. Reaver watched as the girl shouted, "Adrian! Get away from there!"_

_The boy turned, that familiar grin plastered on his face, "Don't worry Anna, I won't-!"_

_The little body began to fall ever backwards, little arms flailing about madly as fear gripped his throat. He watched as the tiny body tilted towards death, until the hand of an angel grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him to salvation. The little brown haired girl pulled him into her arms, crying, "I told you you'd get hurt!" Young Adrian was shaking, his arms limp by his body. For a moment the children stayed in that embrace, until the girl pushed him on the ground, stomped her foot, and shrieked, "You idiot! You could've killed yourself! And you!" She reared on her older brother, greenish blue eyes alight with rage, "If you think you're getting away with this, you've got another thing coming!" She turned back to the smaller boy with black hair and grabbed his arm once more, pulling him along with her, "Come on, Adrian; let's get you home!"_

Reaver shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of an annoying fly that came to close to his nose. Oh how he hated this marsh.

It wasn't long before they reached the covered bridge, however it was nearly rotten away in the middle, and by his eye it would be useless. Stopping at its entrance, Reaver sighed, "Well, I suppose we'll have to jump down."

Marty came up behind him, eyes on the edge of madness, "H-how will we get back up?"

Reaver laughed, "Oh, that's none of your concern, believe me." He put one foot over the lip of the hill's edge, judging the height of it. A faded memory of a little boy breaking his leg from a fall here came to mind, but he dismissed it, jumping down and landing gracefully on both feet. With a satisfied smile he waved for the other man to join him, who promptly did so, yet landed much the opposite of Reaver; the poor dear had to clean mud from his behind before he would trail after him once again. Yet as he reached the opening to the Shadow Court the creature shrank visibly, his rather unsightly body shaking.

A fearful finger lifted from Marty's side, and he asked, "W-where are we?"

What was that lie he so often told mercenaries, bandits, pirates, and all others of that ilk? He smiled as it tickled his memory, "A relic of the past, my good man! Inside, or so I'm told, are riches beyond your wildest dreams. However, there is one thing I need you to do."

Beady eyes slowly fell upon him, "Y-yes?"

Reaver's hand wrapped around the saw-like outline of the cold metal with which he both loved and loathed, and as he pulled it out he could see the darkness shimmering around it, "I need you to hang on to this for me."

Gloved hands wrapped around it, and if Reaver thought the man was pale before he had been wrong. Sweating uncontrollably, Marty asked, "W-what is this?"

"The key. Now be a dear and use it."

"Uh...r-right. Use it." He watched as the tiny man walked up the old stone path, a strange thrill going through him as he heard the doors unlock. Reaver soon joined him, surprised at the small bloom of fear that still haunted him as he entered into the entrance hall.

The torches were always lit, though they did nothing to rid the cold stone of the dark. Smiling, Reaver carried on ahead of his follower, "Do hurry; riches won't spend themselves."

Nothing lived in these halls, save for a few spiders, and he could only guess at their living status by the cobwebs that decorated corners and doorways. He no longer remembered if the walls truly were black, or if the ever present darkness covered some other color long lost to time. He was surprised to find himself smiling fondly as he past the remains of one of those charming gargoyles that had undoubtedly met his end at the hand of his long passed Sparrow. He stopped then, remembering the time they had both entered these halls, not under their own will.

It was the same inky darkness he had seen in Aurora.

A chill he had not felt in years crept up his spine, and for a moment he thought he would be unable to move. Someone walk talking to him, and it took him another minute to realize it was his little lamb. Reaver laughed, though it came out as more of a cough, "I do apologize, Marty dear, I was lost in thought."

"You looked frightened-!" The man's head cracked on the stone wall, the Dragonstomper pressing against his forehead.

There was a wild look in Reaver's eyes, yet his smile remained, "Correct me, but did you say I looked frightened?"

"N-n-n-n-no s-s-s-s-s-sir!"

Reaver released him, watching as he tumbled down the stairs. For a moment he feared his temper had cost him his offering; how dreadful that would be to come all that way only to have to turn back. However the bumbling fool tottered to his feet, and Reaver laughed, "Quite a durable fellow, aren't you?"

"Y-yes sir! Li-like a rock, sir!"

He passed the shaking man, reaching the place even he feared to tread, "Yes, well, even rocks crumble." Placing both hands on the steel doors, Reaver pushed them open, the cold air blasting back his hood and ruffling damp hair. The alter before him was empty, though he could feel the eyes of his savors, his tormenters, watching him. He grabbed the arm of an utterly terrified Marty and shoved him inside, and then the voices began.

_"He has returned to the shadows_..."

"Yes, yes, may we please skip this little monologue? I have grown rather tired of it over the years." Reaver stood in the doorway, watching Marty nearly loose his mind as the Shadow Court materialized at their thrones.

All three voices shrieked, "_You're insolence will not go unpunished!_"

"I'm sure, now if you would be so kind, I've brought you a little gift." He aimed his pistol at the crazed man, saying, "If you so happen to try to run, or let go of that delightful little artifact, I assure you that you will die. Now be a dear and be still."

There was a loud hissing noise, and Reaver watched as the Court lifted their arms, a black miasma flowing from their hands. A shriek tore from Marty's lips as the cloud engulfed him, the strength draining from the notes as the curse did its horrid work. Reaver watched as the man grew smaller, his back hunched as if from years of work, and soon he could no longer hear his scream, just a heavy wheezing. The cloud disappeared, slithering back to its owners like a serpent, revealing a wrinkled and weak creature that used to be Marty. The old man that stood hunched before him looked at his eyes, then to his hands, then back to Reaver, tears in his eyes. A strange feeling built in his throat; Reaver frowned as he pulled the trigger, putting the man out of his misery. The shot hit between the eyes; he died instantly, falling into the abyss below.

"Well, this has been fun, but I believe my business is done here," Reaver walked from the doorway to the Dark Artifact, yet when he tried to lift it the piece seemed welded to the ground. Something cold shot through his arm, then his neck, and he looked up to the dark masters before him.

He imagined their faceless visages grinning with malice, all three voices hissing, "_You will learn respect.._."

Reaver's eyes widened as he watched a dark tendril snake up from before the Dark Judges, then like a bullet it pierced his chest, knocking him to the wall. He cried out, the last of his air escaping him before his body erupted in indescribable pain. Reaver hit the ground with a loud thwack, and for what seemed an eternity he just lay there, trying hopelessly to catch his breath. Then whatever had pierced his chest started to claw its way up his neck, and Reaver grasped at nothing as dark veins crawled up his throat and on his face, and Reaver screamed, the darkness consuming him until there was nothing else...

_He was at Bowerstone Castle. Why, he knew not, yet there he stood on the terrace in a silver moonlight. Something was wrong; he knew this was a dream, but it was not his dream. Reaver turned, only to find that as he did so the same scene played before him, and he began to twirl in circles until he finally gave up. Frowning, he began to walk further into the garden, wondering why instead of hearing the crunch of pebble beneath his boots he heard the splashing of water, as if he were stepping into a puddle. The world seemed to grow ever grayer as he continued forward, until he was before the grave of Sparrow and the king. Then he heard it; a sobbing from behind the stone. As he walked around the tomb he thought he knew what he would find, but instead of a young Lilith it was as he knew her now, her head buried in her arms as she sat with only her knees to hold her head up._

_Reaver smiled, "What are you doing here, little Princess?"_

_"Why weren't you there...?"_

_He began to lean down, "I'm sorry, I do not know what-!"_

_Her head lifted, yet instead of tears staining her beautiful face it was blood, "You were always there! Why didn't you help me?"_

_Her body was ripped from him, a dark claw digging into her now bare stomach. He ran after her, hand outstretched, fear and panic threatening to take hold of him. The dark voices sounded all around him, mocking, "We hold all you treasure..."_

_"No...!" The world was growing red, the heat of flames licking at his face._

_"We demand the blood of the Archons..."_

_"Lilith!" Something grabbed his foot, and he kicked it away. He was so close; he could almost reach her._

_Then the dark fingers that tore into her stomach ripped out of her, and her naked body landed limply in his arms. He fell to the ground, clutching her close, watching in horror as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He tried to hold his hand over her wound, but the blood would not stop; how could one person bleed so much? He heard a horrible laughing, followed by the voices once more, "We demand the birth of the Dark Guardian..." The redness of her blood soon pooled together, twirling upward into a scarlet robe. Reaver screamed as burning yellow eyes glared at him through a white and red mask, the beast's hand reaching towards Lilith..._

"No!" Reaver shot forward, his eyes still encased in darkness. Then he heard the soft whisper of candles coming to life, and as his heart calmed so did his mind. Reaver stood from the ground, dusting off the dirt he had undoubtedly been rolling in. His eyes went to the alter as he ran a hand through his hair, finding it empty. Warily, he walked back to where the Dark Object lay, and snatched it up quickly, shoving the cold metal back into his back, and walking quickly from the room, cursing the place with every word he had learned in his many long years of life.

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**Hey...heeeeeeey~**

**Tell me who you guys are on deviantart, lol, I then we can have epic parties XD  
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	12. Ghosts in the Fog

**Archangel**

**By Lindsay R. Honosky**

**Chapter Eleven: Ghosts in the Fog**

**ASOEIWAJEFOWAEIWAE I MESSED UP! FORGIVE MEEEE ;-; **

**Oh man, I am so sorry guys; that stupid book. THAT STUPID BOOK! I still haven't found it yet, so I just assumed it was somewhere in Albion, but apparently it's in Aurora. Forgive my mistake, please ;-;**

**And sorry once more for the long update; I just get these horrible spells of writer's block, then uncertainty, then I delete all of what I had and just sort of post whatever. I hope this isn't to bad; I guess I'll find out in the reviews, lol. **

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Lilith stared out at the water, taking in a healthy breath of salty air. She wondered if anyone had noticed she had vanished yet? Probably so, what with how Hobson constantly followed her around, but she needed to get out of that place, if only for a moment. Driftwood certainly was a wonderful spot to disappear, even with the ever looming shadow of the Spire surrounding her. Lilith's eyes narrowed as she looked at the black edifice, remembering the stories Walter had told her when she were little.

So many had died in that tower, and it nearly claimed her mother. Decades of torture, slavery, and brainwashing carried on inside its dark halls, ever growing like the nails of a dead man, until her mother put a stop to Lucien the Lunatic. Ms. Hammer used to laugh at her when she asked how her mother stopped the madman, and if she asked her mother she would storm away, muttering something under her breath. Lilith shrugged; it must have been a tiresome battle. She sighed, her eyes softening at the memories of the big woman carrying her around on unnaturally broad shoulders, laughing as Lilith tried to braid her unruly red hair. A sharp pain went through her heart like a needle; she missed those days. Ms. Hammer would always smile sadly at her, then say, "It's a shame, that I get to spend more time with you than your mother." Lilith wondered what the old Hero would have said to her now?

The tide began to pick up, and in the distance she could see a thick fog coming in. Seagulls cried above her head, circling like vultures, waiting to see if she might pull out something for them to eat. A shiver went up her spine as the air grew chill, almost instantly, and Lilith began to rub her arms. This "practical" shirt might be comfortable, but it was rather airy, the wind cutting through it like butter. The black and white striped sash she wore around her mercenary shorts danced in the wind as her loose hair did, almost giving the illusion that she had four striped legs instead of two. As the water licked the tips of her stockings she frowned; boots weren't very comfortable with wet socks. Before the water could catch her again, Lilith ran back to her prince boots (Jasper had given her such a strange look when she wore them), and shoved her feet inside, thankful for their warmth. By the time her attention was once again on her surroundings she found herself surrounded by fog, a strange feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

The lights of Driftwood seemed even further than she had recently thought, the noise of the growing camp now muffled into silence. The seagulls were no longer in sight, and even the move and sway of the tides seemed to cease. Something was very wrong, her every sense screaming for her to run; to flee from this place and never return. Lilith whistled once, calling for Fandral, who came to stand by her side with his tail between his legs. Few things scared her brave companion; something was very wrong indeed. Patting her collie on his head, Lilith began to walk around the shore, hoping to find the shabby wooden bridge that would reconnect her with the other small islands.

She stopped, feet sinking into white sand. Fandral began crying again, and Lilith put her hand on his head, listening.

Someone was crying.

It sounded close, yet far away, the voice that of a small child's. Lilith looked around, yet found nothing past the thick brush of the island, the fog hiding what lay between its branches. Lilith frowned, chewing her bottom lip, "You think we should investigate?" Fandral only whimpered more, his body visibly shaking. She hadn't noticed her feet had been slowly carrying her further into the island, sand soon giving way to rocky, grass covered terrain, dead leaves crushing beneath her feet. Then she saw something in the distance; the shadow of a tiny girl, her hair up in pigtails. Her little hands were covering her eyes, the sounds of her cries the only thing to be heard in the world. Lilith reached out her hand, calling, "L-little girl? Are you alright?"

The tiny head popped up, a shocked gasp putting a slight pause in her crying. Then the little thing dashed further into the island, disappearing once more into the fog. Lilith went after her, fearing for the child's life; Hobbes were known to camp on these less populated islands. She began climbing a slight hill, the remains of some stone path showing through between mud and grass, the path a bit treacherous due to the moisture in the air. Soon she was surrounded by the remains of some tower, moss and ivy claiming what little mortar the stones had left. She caught a glimpse of the girl's skirt, though it quickly disappeared around a corner, and as Lilith rounded it she found herself alone.

She stood atop a flattened hilltop, a strange alter at its center. Lilith walked closer, feeling a strange need to examine it. Upon further inspection she found it looked very similar to the Cullis Gates inside her mother's tomb, yet there was no symbol from the old Guild to be seen. Lilith knelt to touch the smooth stone at the center, yet as her fingers traced the stone she yelped and snatched her hand back, feeling as though she had just touched fire. Her knees gave out, and Lilith landed hard on her hind quarters, the cool ground seeping into her bones. A giggle came from behind her, then all around her, and then there were no other noises than the sinister chortling of a small child.

Lilith stood, temper flaring, "Alright, enough of these games! Come out so I can see you!"

The laughing stopped, and from the fog emerged five little shadows, all in the form of a tiny girl with pigtails, red eyes glowering at her. Lilith inhaled sharply, images of that dark hell in Aurora flashing before her eyes. Her blood chilled, and she took a step back, yet as she did she saw a small knife sail towards her right ankle. She leapt to the side, only to have to avoid another knife aimed for her waist. The shadow children surrounded her, forming a tight circle that only seemed to close her in further as she dodged each tiny blow. Only when she tripped over tiny stone steps did she realize they were forcing her into the center of the alter. She started to panic, her escape route seemingly impossible as the shadow knives surrounded her, until finally her left foot backed into the circle, a blue light erupting around the center's edges.

_Give us the Dark Guardian.._.

A whisper, full of malice and hate, floated above the ghostly giggles of the shadow children. Lilith cried out as a knife found her right thigh, and she had to jump back to avoid being stabbed from the front. This turned out to be a devastatingly bad idea, for as her entire body because ensnared in the stone circle, a green light surrounded her, and then she knew only pain.

Her blood was boiling; something inside her was screaming. Lilith grasped at her head, screaming, "Stop it! Stop this now!"

"_You must stay strong..._" That voice, familiar, as if from some far off dream. Images of a woman in red flashed before her eyes, and she knew it was that of Theresa, "_Do not let him win!_"

Her feet began to float, and before she knew what was happening her arms were torn from her head, outstretched on both sides as if she were bound on some invisible cross. Her voice cracked, and she could scream no more, however the pain continued until she thought she would go mad. Her eyes popped open, and where once were greenish blue eyes now was only a glowing white, fear and pain etched along her face. She saw something in the fog, the form of a man in a red cloak, his face hidden behind a white mask, yellow eyes smiling at her.

Then she felt nothing but the cold, unforgiving stone as she fell from the air, her body gone numb. The shadow children danced around her, humming a haunting tune, the image of the red cloaked man fading. Lilith tried to stand, but her arms were to weak to support her, and she once again crashed against the stone. She curled her body inward, closing her eyes, trying to shut out the song of the shadows, until she felt slim, cool fingers grasp the base of her chin. She looked to find a deathly white hand holding her face, the arm revealed up to a graceful elbow, the body of a woman before her. The woman's face was hidden behind a white hood, yet when Lilith tried to find her feet she found the woman had none, her body ending at the tattered ends of her dress. The ghostly woman lifted her from the ground, her hands quickly going from her chin to Lilith's throat, a mocking laugh echoing from the dark portal where her face should be, "_Join us...Join us...Join us..._"

Lilith smirked, placing her palm against the creature's chest, pushing her away with her Force Push spell. She fell once more, the creature shrieking as it flew off into a tree. Panting, Lilith rose, gauntlets alight with her Will. The creature correct itself, another taunting laugh shaking its deceivingly fragile form, "_Why do you fight it? Embrace it...The dark one calls you..."_

"Stay away from me!" Fire erupted from her palm, yet the creature simply dissipated into the fog, her projectile setting a tree ablaze.

Lilith cursed, eyes darting about to find her tormenter. Then frozen arms wrapped around her waste, the woman's voice whispering, "_I can see your heart. Do you worry for him?_"

Lilith gripped the arms, the fire of her gauntlet trapped between her leather and the creature's flesh. If it felt it the beast gave no sign, only another mocking giggle,_ "How pathetic; to him you are no more than a small child..._" The arms disappeared, the white form reappearing before her, bellowing a shriek that seemed to move the earth. Lilith covered her ears, but the scream seemed to infect her very soul, and she screamed. As the world fell silent on more, Lilith tried to stay on her feet, the world spinning. The creature grew close once again, mocking, "_The man is incapable of love, least of all for one like you. Embrace us, love us, we will forever be yours..."_

A gun fired, followed by another scream. A hole appeared in the cowl of the ghostly woman, and through it she saw burning brown eyes. For a moment Lilith thought she were hallucinating, however as the man spoke she knew this were no dream, "You're rather far from home, aren't you love?"

The creature hissed, pointing an accusing finger at him, "_We are never far, for we are your beloved brides!_" Dark circles shot out from beneath her hood, and as they hit the ground the five ghostly children reappeared, brandishing their weapons.

He looked at her, scowling, "Lilith dear, your assistance would be most appreciated!"

She stared at him, wide-eyed, but then shook her head, "Oh! Right!" Lilith crouched, beginning to charge her gauntlets. The creature howled, sailing towards her. With a shout Lilith released her spell, a wave of wind and fire pushing back the white veiled woman and destroying her children into dark smoke. She watched as the beast began to sob, her body slowly floating to the ground. Lilith wasted no time, running up to the creature with a fire gauntlet fully charged. Before the ghost could raise once more, Lilith released her spell into the darkness of her hood, her body blasted back as the creature exploded into dust and rags.

Lilith closed her eyes, expecting for her back to meet the full force of the ruins behind her, however something warm jumped in the way, and instead of hitting the wall she found herself, once more, on the ground, panting. For a moment she just lay there, shaking, until a warm arm wrapped around her waist, his velvet voice purring, "It is no longer here; you needn't worry."

Tears formed in her eyes, and she gripped at his hand as if it were the only thing real in this world, "Reaver...?"

"Yes, it is me. I apologize for my delay, dear Princess. Or should I say Your Majesty?" Reaver laughed, his voice sounding winded, "Might I add, for one so light, you do pack a rather hefty punch when being thrown through the air."

"Oh!" She sat up instantly, her eyes furrowed in a worried glance, "Are you alright? Why did you jump behind me?"

He laughed, strands of black hair covering his left eye, "Curious, I thought you would be elated to have landed in my arms, rather than becoming a pretty stain against some old stone."

She blushed, remembering the feeling of his embrace, "I...thank you, Reaver. But, are you hurt? I hit you pretty hard..."

He sat up, brushing unruly locks to the side, "Believe me, dear Lilith, I have been hit by heavier things than you. Now if you don't mind, I would rather like to get off of this cold, muddy ground, if it's all the same to you." She watched him stand, then extend a hand to help her to her feet. Lilith took it, hiding her face behind brown hair as he looked her over. He arched an eyebrow, frowning, "You've been injured."

"Hm? Oh," she looked to her leg, shrugging, "it's nothing; really."

"Based on your screams, that sounds very far from the truth." His face was emotionless, yet his eyes held the glimmer of something she couldn't quite place, "What exactly happened, Lilith?"

Her face paled at the memory of the pain, the green light, the eyes that glowed from behind a white mask. She gripped her arm, smiling nervously, "N-nothing. Like I said."

His eyes narrowed, yet he no longer forced the subject. Shrugging, Reaver simply said, "Very well, I will simply have to be satisfied with nothing. However it did sound like a very painful nothing." He began to walk down the hill, the fog disappearing around them. Lilith followed, repeating in her head that she did so because she wanted to leave, not because she was afraid of being alone.

At the base of the hill they found Fandral, the dog's tail coming alive at the sight of his master. From the look of him he had been fighting as well, dark stains wetting his white and black fur. Lilith knelt, hugging her friend, "I'm so sorry, boy..."

Reaver stopped, looking back, "He will be fine; those shadows were more afraid of him after a few well placed bites."

Fandral barked, and Lilith laughed, "Good to know." She soon joined him by the shore, following his gaze. He was staring at the Spire, his eyes distant, as if remembering some long forgotten memory. She shuffled on her feet, frowning, "Reaver...what...what was that thing?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean the old, nagging hag in the white veil? Those are banshees, Your Majesty; a rather nasty breed of monster that often plague the stench of Wraithmarsh." He did not look at her, but she noticed his body visibly tense.

"Reaver, where were you? You've been gone for weeks..."

"Lilith, I will tell you this once, and only once; do not question me." His voice was cold, almost threatening. Then that usual smirk reappeared on his face, and he asked, "However, I would like to know what you are doing out here, so far from the comfortable confines of your castle."

She sighed, crossing her arms, "I needed to escape for a while."

"More like you were tired of listening to Hobson's constant prattling."

"How did you-?"

"Know?" He laughed, waving a hand in the air, "Your brother did much the same, however he usually escaped to the safety of the gardens, not to Hobbe infested islands."

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this," she frowned, "and of course you show up. How is it that, whenever I want to be alone, you somehow appear?"

"I would think you'd be grateful for such encounters, seeing as I have saved your life in more than half of them."

She laughed, then headed once more towards the shabby old bridge that would lead to the mainland, "I suppose you're right." She turned, smiling sweetly, "Thank you, Reaver."

He bowed, "Anytime, Your Majesty. Now if you don't mind, I have a rather lonely bed awaiting me in my manor, one I would very much like to reacquaint myself with." He was by her side in no time, thanks to ridiculously long legs, "I wonder if you would care to join me?"

Her ears were burning, and she tried to hide how nervous she was, "H-ha ha, you're such a joker, Reaver."

"And you a very poor learner; did I not tell you I rarely joke?"

It was silent for a while, their footsteps the only noise echoing across the bay. Lanterns were being blown out in the distance, the moon the only light for their path. Fandral came up beside her, almost knocking her into the water, then pranced forward onto shore, running off after some poor squirrel or rabbit in the brush. Lilith reached the beach first, stopping when her feet touched the sand. Reaver followed suit, crossing his arms, a knowing look on his face. Lilith turned, her eyes looking anywhere but his, "You...you don't mean it. Truly. I know...I know you see me as a child, as someone weak and incapable. That's why...that's why every time I see you, I have to remind myself that I'm just a joke, something to be laughed at. So please, stop saying such things to me. I know I'll never be worthy enough to be-?"

Strong hands gripped her arms, and she yelped in surprise as Reaver pulled her back onto the bridge, his face mere inches from her's. His eyes were smoldering, the intense green hidden behind brown lenses, his lips curled at one end, "Who are you to tell me who is worthy?" Her eyes widened as his lips encased her's, hard at first, but then slowly growing more gentle. Her body was on fire, blue-green eyes rolling to the back of her head as she let herself go under his control. Her mouth opened to his, the sweetness of his tongue lacing every inch of her mouth, a small laugh escaping him through a gasp. Then he pulled away, a taunting look in his eye.

Lilith frowned through her blush, "What?"

He let her go, boots clicking twice on the wooden floor, then leaving tracks in the sand, "I thought you had more...experience, seeing as you were with that Elliot boy for so long. Perhaps I assumed wrong?"

Lilith ran after him, screaming, "How dare you! Elliot was nothing but a perfect gentleman!"

"That sounds absolutely boring. I assume by that little outburst you are also still a-?"

"Yes, a virgin!" She stopped, dumbfounded, "I just...I just screamed that, didn't I?"

Reaver only laughed, already reaching the road that would lead to Millfields, Lilith brooding behind him.

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Walter had nearly taken her head off when she arrived back at the castle that night, noticing the rips and tears in her clothes, the small bloodstains on her leg. However he didn't know the later part, the one where she would still turn red whenever she happened to remember. Worst of all was the fact she had to meet the cause of said memory around a group of people today; she prayed she wore enough make-up to hid her knowing blush. The people were being held back by ropes and banners with tiny colored flags draping from them, confetti and cheers filling the air. She was heading towards the entrance of Reaver Industries, or at least one of their entrances; the city really was owned by the business tycoon.

As she crossed the bridge she could already hear Page's annoyed shouts from across the water, and Lilith sighed; this was going to be fun. Hardening her face, Lilith walked into the tiny plaza where she had seen a rebellious worker get shot for speaking his mind. Standing side by side were the pair Lilith knew would rather be shooting each other than conversing civilly, however there they stood, one calm and cocksure, the other red-faced and angry. A rather sizable crowd had somehow managed to fit inside the brick circle, the eyes of tiny child laborers peeking out from the legs of their taller co-workers, faces covered in black soot. Then the negotiations began.

Page stepped forward, motioning towards the people, "Your Majesty, you made a promise that you would protect your people; that you would do all in your power to better their lives. I ask you to look at the faces of those who surround you, see their pain, see their need!"

Reaver cut in, face absolutely beaming, "Indeed, they are in pain. And indeed! They are in need; need of continuous labor to enrich their dull and lack-luster lives! Why, without my factory, men would be out in the streets, looking for the comfort of arms to embrace the since their lonely wives had long since left them for another. Children would run amuck; their little lives missing that special something to keep them on the path of righteousness."

"Righteousness? You can't be serious?" Page shrilled, her fists balled. She turned back to Lilith, her eyes pleading, "Please, Your Majesty, you must know there is no sense in what he says. Albion has no future without our children."

Lilith frowned, "Then what do you propose?"

Page smiled, eyes shining with hope, "A school, one that will raise these children properly and give this country hope for the future. Your mother understood the importance of educating her people, and your brother destroyed that legacy. Please, be the one to end his."

Reaver paced back and forth, his voice melodically bouncing, "Admirable, yes, however it would cost this kingdom quite a bit of gold. Five-hundred thousand, to be exact. It is absolutely astounding at what those tiny little hands can craft."

Lilith rolled her eyes, then caught herself, coughing, "A price that can easily be paid. I decree that there shall be no more child labor, and instead a school shall be build in the abandoned warehouse by the docks; free of admission."

The crowd around her cheered, Page's face positively lighting up. She grasped Lilith's hands, shaking them gratefully, "Thank you, Your Majesty. You have no idea the good that will come from this."

"Yes, of course; let the little dears run and play and learn of this bleak and unforgiving world. I'm sure they'll be pleased."

Lilith laughed, "It isn't as if you won't benefit from this as well; I'm paying you for the building."

Reaver walked away, twirling his cane, "I suppose you are right. However I do hope the coffers do not suffer more for my behalf."

He disappeared beyond the crowd, stepping into a rather lavish carriage and riding away. The crowd soon dissipated, leaving the two women alone. Lilith sighed in relief, letting her shoulders slouch, "Why is this damn crown so heavy?"

Page shrugged, "Perhaps it is weighed down by all that responsibility?"

"Being made of solid gold doesn't help, either." She laughed, removing the head piece and flicking it, "I wonder how much I'd get if I melted it down?"

The other woman laughed, clearly in good spirits, "Sure it wouldn't be worth more intact?"

"I suppose so..." She motioned for Page to walk with her, and the two women went along the waterline, receiving bows and cheers from the few who still stayed in the streets. Lilith stretched, "So, how goes the Underground?"

"Still busy; most have signed up for your army. You should have seen Ben the other day; that man might be an idiot, but he has a way to sway the people."

Lilith's face crumpled for a moment, and she whispered, "I believe he is angry with me..."

"He'll get over it. No one deserves death, not even your brother, and from what I understand he did all that he did out of fear for the country?" Page laughed shyly, "Of course, Ben might be a tad miffed at me as well."

"You? The apple of his eye? His ebony goddess? His -?"

Page held up a hand, frowning, "Stop! I'd rather not know all his pet names for me. Especially after, well..." She hesitated for a moment, then smiled shyly, "after Kidd proposed to me."

Lilith stopped, mouth agape, "Kidd? He did what?"

"Is it so shocking? I did grow up with the man, after all!"

Lilith laughed, "Forgive me, I just...I don't know, you don't seem to be the marrying type."

"I agree, however I do love the man; he saved me, you know. From the factories. He fought off the worker head as I fled into the alleys. Ever since then we've done all we could to protect each other."

Lilith looked at her, understanding for the first time, "So that's why you walked into that trap."

"Yes," she admitted, avoiding her eyes, "I had to know. That strange little man...Barry, was it? I knew it was a trap, but I had you with me, and I needed to know...if they had killed him."

Lilith sighed, "Next time, hold of for a moment, will you? I'm good, but if we get assaulted by a gang of balverines one more time we might not come out so well."

Page laughed, "Agreed! But, if you'll excuse me, there is still much I must do. Stay well, Your Majesty."

Lilith nodded, "And you, Page." She watched her friend go, still feeling awkward about not being called "Lily". As she walked back to the castle she wondered if anyone would ever call her that again.

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**I just wanted to thank you all for reading my stories and looking at my art; it really does mean a lot to me. If you're on DA, give me a shout! We can go on crazy adventures, what ho!**


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